In the cozy home of a seemingly ordinary couple, the daily banter between husband and wife always had an element of lighthearted fun. But this particular exchange would go down in their household history as one of the most hilarious moments ever.
It all started on a lazy Sunday morning. The husband, comfortably sprawled out on the couch, was glued to his favorite sports channel, eyes fixed on the screen. The wife, on the other hand, was buzzing around the house, trying to get things in order. Seeing her husband lounging like a royal on his throne while she toiled away, she finally decided enough was enough.
“Honey,” she called out sweetly, though a hint of mischief danced in her eyes, “could you please help me clean up the garden? The weeds are taking over like an invading army out there.”
The husband barely glanced up, waving a dismissive hand. “Do I look like a gardener to you?” he grumbled, eyes still glued to the TV.
Suppressing a sigh, the wife tried again, determined not to let him off the hook so easily. “Alright, Mr. Couch Potato. Then how about fixing the bathroom door? The hinges are so loose, it creaks every time someone so much as breathes near it.”
Now, this question finally made him lift his eyes—if only to roll them dramatically. “Do I look like a carpenter?” he retorted, his tone dripping with mock indignation. He then turned his attention back to his screen, oblivious to the storm brewing in his wife’s mind.
Without another word, the wife turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, leaving him to his precious sports. He watched her go with a shrug, thinking smugly to himself, She’ll get over it. After all, she always did. With a satisfied grin, he resumed his couch-bound relaxation.
Some hours later, when the game ended, the husband finally decided to peel himself off the couch. Strolling out into the garden, he stopped dead in his tracks. To his utter shock, the garden was completely transformed! The bushes were trimmed, the weeds were gone, and the flowerbeds looked like they belonged on the cover of a gardening magazine. And that wasn’t all.
Curious, he made his way to the bathroom, only to find the creaky old door fixed and swinging perfectly on its hinges. He blinked, unable to believe his eyes. The place was spotless, as if a miracle-working handyman had swept through in his absence.
“Ha!” he chuckled to himself, crossing his arms smugly. “I knew she’d end up doing it all by herself. Women always make such a fuss over nothing!” Feeling victorious, he ambled into the kitchen, expecting to find his wife still in the throes of chores.
But she was already there, seated calmly at the table with a cup of tea, the picture of nonchalance.
“Honey,” he said, his voice oozing satisfaction, “the garden looks amazing, and the bathroom door is perfect. You did a great job!”
His wife shot him an amused glance, a mysterious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, it wasn’t me.”
The husband frowned, taken aback. “What do you mean, it wasn’t you? Then who did it?”
“Our neighbor,” she replied casually, taking a slow sip of her tea.
The husband’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why would he do our chores? How much did you pay him?”
Now the wife’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. “Oh, he didn’t want money. He just gave me two options…”
The husband leaned forward, suddenly feeling uneasy. “What options?”
The wife’s tone was as innocent as a lamb. “Bread… or sex.”
The husband’s jaw dropped. A chill ran down his spine as his imagination went into overdrive. He stared at her, voice strained. “You—you gave him bread, right?”
His wife leaned back in her chair, arching an eyebrow. The grin she flashed him was nothing short of wicked.
“Do I look like a bakery to you?”
The husband’s face went from pale to beet-red in the span of two seconds. For a moment, he just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, seeing her barely suppressed laughter, he realized she had been playing him the entire time!
“Oh, you—!” He tried to sound indignant, but even he couldn’t help laughing as the absurdity of the situation washed over him.
“Well, next time, gardener or carpenter—you decide,” she teased, giving him a playful wink.
From that day on, the husband became a lot more “handy” around the house. And every time he so much as glanced at the garden or the bathroom door, he couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering the day he almost ended up paying with a loaf of bread—or much, much worse!
So, the next time your wife asks for help around the house, husbands of the world, take note: Don’t ask if you look like a gardener or a carpenter. Just pick up the tools, roll up your sleeves, and get to work. Otherwise, you might end up owing more than just a simple favor. After all, as this husband learned the hard way… wives always have a Plan B!
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