One Saturday morning, I got up early, dressed, quietly slipped quietly into the garage to put my golf clubs into the trunk,
and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. There was snow mixed with rain, and the wind was howling at about 50 mph.
I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day.
I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. There, I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."
My loving wife of over 30 years replies, "Can you believe my stupid husband is out there golfing in that shit?"
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