Last night, my wife made me sit through an old, old, old movie. The song they were singing was ‘There’s nothing like a dame.’ If I called my wife a dame, she would probably punch me out. Not really, but she would be angry. I thought she was going to shoot me when I laughed her, but I couldn’t help it. She was trying to change the air filter in the air conditioning unit, and she didn’t even know where it went. I was watching her with that screwdriver, and she was trying everything to get the AC unit open. I turned around and I told her she was cold. I had to follow that up with you’re in the Arctic. She had the screwdriver in her hand, and I hoped she wouldn’t fling it. Instead, she got up and walked away from me. I took care of the air filter, and I closed the air conditioner up. I went upstairs and I turned the AC back on, and I set the thermostat to seventy-two. She was totally ignoring me as she perused the coupons in the newspaper. Ten minutes later she came back downstairs and handed me the paper. She circled an ad for a HVAC company. She was singing the song from last night and she sang there is nothing like a man as she pointed to the HVAC tech’s picture. He would have done it without being coerced, she mumbled. As she walked back upstairs, I couldn’t help but to bust a gut laughing at her.