A sick stomach and a sandwich.

Today I woke with the most horrible pain. I thought that I might die (my wife would say this is a typical male overreaction; if we ever had to deal with real pain we wouldn't whine so much). So, like a good man, I started complaining of how awful I felt. Then like a good woman my wife handed me a sandwich.

I tried to act thankful but what I really wanted was sympathy, or maybe a note to get out of school; neither of which I obtained. As I stood there with a mildly thankful pained look she gestured for me to take a bite. To tell you the truth I was not in the mood for a sandwich at all, but I mechanically opened my mouth, inserted the sandwich, and took a bite.

At this point I would like to say that my wife's wisdom and sandwich helped me to feel better, but alas this is not true; if anything I felt worse. I looked up at her again and faked a smile. She pinched my cheek, gave me a cheerful smile, then turned around and walked out of the room.

I promptly sat down and started to evaluate my life....

I haven't finished yet. I'll let you know what I come up with.