This morning I have been a husband possessed. I’ve been running around doing housework like someone with another X chromosome. (OOH is that going to fetch me a slap!) So for the first time in the brief history of the Kauffman household, version 2.2 (I don’t ever get tired of that one), I beat my bride to the drier alarm. Before Cheryl could even sigh, I was in the laundry room shoveling more clothes into the dryer.

“John, why are you putting those wet sheets in the dryer? You knew I wanted to fluff my shirt for tonight!”

Oh the agony of defeat.