Thursday Tickles

Years of Romance

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?"

What's That Smell?

For a romantic touch, I washed our sheets with lavender-scented detergent. When my husband got into bed, he sniffed. "What’s this?" he asked.

"Guess," I said coyly.

"I have no idea," he said. "It smells like the stuff you use to line the hamster’s cage."

The Right Diagnosis

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.”

Usual Suspicions

After Adam stayed out late a few nights, Eve became suspicious.

"You’re running around with another woman— admit it!" she demanded.

"What other woman?" Adam shot back. "You’re it!"

That night, Adam was fast asleep when he was awakened by Eve poking him in the chest.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting your ribs."