I went to see the doctor the other day about my headache. He asked what the problem was. I replied, “Well it started as a headache, but now I've got a bedsore from sitting in your waiting room for so long.” Then I remembered that I’d actually left my headache at home, or “wife”, as she prefers to be called. For the last few weeks I’ve been slipping painkillers into her coffee, but when it comes time to make whoopie, she still complains of a headache. On a positive note, I noticed her slipping a bottle of headache tablets into her purse before she left the house this morning. At least I know she's not cheating on me.