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A retired man....
It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.
My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Carol Anne. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Carol Anne to get a full-time job, along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work.
Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. but now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner.
I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, Boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two, or even three days. That way, she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me, too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Carol Anne. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, Guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
Signed,
Ron
Update:
Ron died suddenly on the 4th of July of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby. His wife Carol Anne was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Ron, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
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A farmer was selling his peaches door to door. He knocked on a door and a shapely 30 something woman dressed in a very sheer negligee answered the door.
He raised his basket to show her the peaches and asked,
'Would you like to buy some peaches?'
She pulled the top of the negligee to one side and asked, 'Are they as firm as this?'
He nodded his head and said, 'Yes ma'am,'' and a little tear ran from his eye.
Then she pulled the other side of her negligee off asking, 'are they nice and pink like this?'
The farmer said, Yes,' and another tear came from the other eye.
She unbuttoned the bottom of her negligee and asked, 'Are they as fuzzy as this?'
He again said, 'Yes,' and broke down crying.
She asked, 'Why on earth are you crying?'
Drying his eyes he replied, ''The drought got my corn, the flood got my soy beans, a tornado leveled my barn, and now I think I'm gonna get screwed out of my peaches.'
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There is an old saying, that you leave this world the same way you entered it. If this really is the case, imagine the shock Michael Jackson's ghost had, waking up to find out he was a black male again.
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Twelve Italian priests were about to be ordained. The final test was for them to line up in a straight row, totally nude, in a garden while a sexy, beautiful, big breasted, nude model danced before them.
Each priest had a small bell attached to his pecker, and they were told that anyone whose bell rang when she danced in front of them would not be ordained because he had not reached a state of spiritual purity.
The beautiful model danced before the first candidate with no reaction. She proceeded down the line with the same response from all the priests until she got to the final priest, Carlo.
Poor Carlo. As she danced, his bell began to ring so loudly that it flew off, clattering across the ground and laid to rest in nearby foliage .
Embarrassed, Carlo quickly scrambled to where the bell came to rest. He bent over to pick it up...and all the other bells started to ring.
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