I went out on Saturday night.  The wife and I went to our friends' house for dinner to celebrate my buddies promotion.  Without getting into too much detail, I'll just tell you that I had a fucking great time.

Now, before we got married, I made sure that my wife understood that marriage is a two-way street.  Fifty-fifty all the way.  That's why, where ever we go, I drive there, and she drives home.

Needless to say, she drove home that night because I tried to get into someone else's car. 

You ever go to sleep drunk at five in the morning, and someone wakes you up at eight?

Well, it happened to me. The fucking paper boy knocked on my door at fucking 8 o'clock in the morning.  Except the paper boy is not a paper boy, he's like a fucking 60 year old dude in a rusty minivan.

"Why the fuck would you even get out of bed, man?", is what you're probably thinking.  I got up because I had no choice.

My wife must have watched too many drama / thriller / horror movies when she was younger, because any time there's a rap at the door, she thinks someone is breaking in, or has come to chop our fucking heads off.

"Honey...Honey!!!HONEY GET UP!!!!"

"wha...Wha?...WHAT THE FUCK?"  I respond to her yelling and simultaneous violent shaking of my head.

"Someone's trying to break in the house!"

"AWW, For fuck's sakes!  Are you serious?"

"Yes.", she answers, with that fucked up look in her eye that's telling me I better get up and check it out if I want to get even another second of shut eye this day.

I'm already up, so I throw the sheets off, jump out of bed, thinking about how great a giant glass of soda water and lemonade will go down after I clear up this bullshit.

I walk down to the stairs, right to the front door, and open it.

"Hello Sir!!!  Hope your doing well...uhhh....this morning..."

"Yeah.  Great.  What's up?"

"Ummm....You owe me...Um..Let me see...$14.75...."

"Here's twenty...Have a nice day."  I close the door, grab my ice cold drink, and head back up stairs.

I walk up to bed, chug the drink and put the glass down on my night table.  My wife is awake...staring at me...giving me that other look that I recognize, but just couldn't place.

She's got that sly smile going on...the one that says, "I know what you want, and I'm gonna give it to you..."

When I followed her gaze, and lowered my eyes, I realized that I had just paid the geriatric paper boy with my penis hanging full out of my boxer shorts. 

Good times.