During a heartfelt chat with her friend about relationships, my wife sighed and said, “You know, if something happened to Simon, I don’t think I could ever marry again.”
Her friend nodded sympathetically. “I know what you mean,” she said. “Once is enough.”
A man tells his doctor that he’s incapable of doing all the things around the house that he used to do. When the examination is over, he says, “Okay, Doctor. In plain English – what’s wrong with me?”
“Well, in plain English,” says the doctor, “you’re just lazy.”
The man nods. “Now give me the medical term, so I can tell my wife.”
A couple are sitting in their living room, sipping wine. Out of the blue, the wife says, “I love you.”
“Is that you or the wine talking?” asks the husband.
“It’s me,” says the wife. “Talking to the wine.”
Shortly before our 25th wedding anniversary, my husband sent 25 long-stemmed yellow roses to me at my office. A few days later, I plucked all the petals and dried them. On the night of our anniversary, I spread the petals over the bed and lay on top of them, wearing only a negligee.
As I’d hoped, I got a reaction from my husband.
When he saw me, he shouted, “Are those potato chips?”
I’d noticed that my 60-year-old father seemed to be losing his hearing, so I mentioned it to my mother.
“Things haven’t changed that much,” she said. “Only difference is, before he didn’t listen. Now, he can’t.”
A woman noticed her husband standing on the bathroom scale, sucking in his stomach. “That’s not going to help,” she said.
“Sure, it does,” he said. “It’s the only way I can see the numbers.”
Ah, marriage. I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror one evening admiring my reflection, when I posed this question to my wife of 30 years: “Will you still love me when I’m old, fat and balding?”
She answered, “I do.”
A therapist has a theory that couples who make love once a day are the happiest. So, he tests it at a seminar by asking those assembled, “How many people here make love once a day?” Half the people raise their hands, each of them grinning widely. “Once a week?” A third of the audience members raise their hands, their grins a bit less vibrant. “Once a month?” A few hands tepidly go up. Then he asks, “OK, how about once a year?”
One man in the back jumps up and down, jubilantly waving his hands. The therapist is shocked – this disproves his theory. “If you make love only once a year,” he asks, “why are you so happy?”
The man yells, “Today’s the day!”
A husband and wife had been married for 60 years and had no secrets, except for one: the woman kept in her closet a shoebox that she forbade her husband from ever opening. But when she was on her deathbed – and with her blessing – he opened the box and found a crocheted doll and $95,000 in cash.
“My mother told me that the secret to a happy marriage was to never argue,” she explained. “Instead, I should keep quiet and crochet a doll.”
Her husband was touched. Only one doll was in the box – that meant she’d been angry with him only once in 60 years. “But what about all this money?” he asked.
“Oh,” she said, “that’s the money I made from selling the dolls.”
An advertisement boasted that its product could help people live pain free in their golden years.
“Am I in my golden years?” my husband of 63 asked.
“Not at all,” I assured him, “but you are yellowing fast.”
My wife told me that I twist everything she says to my advantage. I take that as a compliment!
At my wedding, my father decided to give a speech. I was touched considering he had never been the biggest fan of my fiance.
“I’m so glad my beautiful daughter has finally found someone as funny, hard-working, intelligent, passionate and kind as herself, John. Now why she’s choosing to marry Brad I’ll never know!”
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