Guess what? My wife says I can't quit

January 19, 2022

For my entire life, I’ve heard that once you put in 30 years of work and dedication to one thing, you can retire. I’ve also heard 20 was the magic number, but I’m slow and missed that date.

Well, everyone, I am here to tell you that I have officially reached retirement age. Unfortunately, I’m also here to tell you that She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Made-Mad isn’t too keen on letting me quit. In fact, my significant other wasn’t in the least bit amused the other day when I leaped out of bed and started packing her clothes into a paper sack. She was - and I kid you not an ounce here - less than impressed.

After snatching a pink blouse from my hands and putting it back in the drawer, she crossed her arms like only a really upset wife can and demanded an explanation.

“Listen to what I’m about to say very carefully. It could affect your health,” she said with a hiss. “What in the name of Sam Hill are you doing?”

I smiled ... which brought her hand up, signaling for quiet.

“It’s 6:30 a.m. and I’m in no mood for jokes,” she said. “You better think about whatever answer you are about to give ... a lot.”

So I thought about it. ...

and, then I thought about it

some more ...

... and some more ...

.. and some more ...

... and some more ...

Editor’s Note: I don’t know about your wife, but when SWMNBMM says “think carefully” she really means “be careful because pain could follow your next words.

So I thought about it some more ...

... and some more ...

Feeling pretty sure that the passage of 8 seconds (I have a short attention span) had dulled her anger, I opened my mouth.

“Tommy,” she hissed. “I ain’t even kidding. You better not say something stupid.”

I was pretty well stunned at this statement. I believe I can speak for most men when I say that, “I don’t say stupid things. People just hear things stupidly.”

With that in mind, I am proud to tell you that I put my hands on my hips, puffed out my chest and did what every man does. I said ... “yes, dear.”

To make the story short, I did finally get the chance to explain my actions to my wife. “Well, you know about that 30-year retirement thing?” I asked.

“Yes ...” she said.

“Good. If my math is right, this is the 30th year. I have counted 13 times and every time I finish, the number of years between 1990 and 2022 is exactly 32.”

Remember, I'm slow ...

“Which means what to me?” she said, her facing turning purple.

“Well... I was just thinking that after 30 years, every man has the right to retire,” I said. “If it wouldn’t upset you too much, you know it was 30 years ago that we got married ...”

WHACK!!!

Attention to all men who are nearing the 30th year anniversary! I want to warn you that “retirement” isn’t an option. I’m pretty sure if I ever manage to get unplugged from this Iron Lung and recover the use of my arms and legs, I will never think about “retirement” again.

You’ll be happy to know, though, SWMNBMM said “retirement” involved strangulation, an an unmarked grave. I’m looking forward to 40 ... 60 ... and even 80 years.

Tommy Wells is the editor of the Carnegie Herald. Everything is this column is exaggerated, made up or complete lies. Well, except for the 32 years part.