By Luann Dawkins

I was at a party the other night with my husband and was in a nice conversation with two women I had just met. My husband (lets call him Barney) was standing behind me conversing with the husbands of these women and had also just met them. Of course when a wife is within earshot of her husband she always has one ear on his conversation, we have to make sure he is not divulging state secrets about our household or making a fool out of us. So, I was listening to his story and low and behold he said the words....MY WIFE DOESN'T WORK!!!!

I had never heard that bit of filth roll off his tongue before, so naturally I was stunned! What does he mean "I don't work"??? Does he not realize what a massive undertaking it is just to get him all he needs and desires in his daily life? Apparently not.

The ride home was silent, save for the ever annoying, "what's wrong?" That went on for at least 5 miles to which I replied, "nothing, I'm fine." I decided when we arrived at the house, I would have ample time in my nightly bath to simmer and plot my revenge. I gave great thought to cleaning the toilet with his tooth brush, adding an entire bottle of starch to his underwear, and putting salt in his coffee instead of sugar. But then I realized that none of those things would change his perception of what I do. Although they sure would be satisfying!!!! Instead, I decided to give his a little taste of my daily life.

On the following weekend I was mysteriously struck with a debilitating case of stomach flu! "What a shame I'm so ill Barney, I had so much that has to be done this weekend, do you think you could change your plans and pitch in with the household chores?" Like moth to a flame Barney bit. "Sure I can help, you just rest and leave it all to me." "Oh, Barney you are such a dear, Thank you."

I chuckle as I write this because that was the sweetest weekend of my married life. I made sure Barney never got to sit down for more than two seconds at a time. He went to the grocery store, did the laundry, dusted, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, bathrooms, and changed sheets, weeded the garden, bathed the dogs and three cats (that was particularly amusing), cooked breakfast lunch and dinner. And as if on cue, my son threw up all over the carpet. Yes, Karma can certainly bite you in the rear.

A wise word to all the Barneys' of the world, when in conversation with others do not ever say anything about your wife that is not first sent to committee, voted on and approved.