Mildred stormed out of the toilet, profoundly traumatized. “Bob, I simply noticed myself bare within the mirror,” she wailed. “I look completely dreadful. Fast, give me a praise to elevate my spirits!”
Bob regarded up from his crossword puzzle and seamlessly replied, “Properly, your eyesight continues to be 20/20.”
Mildred gasped, her eyes narrowing. “After 42 years of marriage, that is the thanks I get?! I bore your kids! I made you soup if you had been sick!”
“It was canned soup, Mildred,” Bob famous calmly.
“I heated it!” she snapped. “So, are you going to offer me an actual praise or not?”
Bob smiled easily. “In fact, darling…”
She paused, all of a sudden hopeful.
“Not less than the mirror survived.”
