THE WIFE ASKS, "WELL THEN, COULD YOU FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR? IT WON'T CLOSE RIGHT." TO WHICH HE REPLIED, "FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR? DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE WESTINGHOUSE WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON'T THINK SO." "FINE,"

SHE SAYS "THEN YOU COULD AT LEAST FIX THE STEPS TO THE FRONT DOOR? THEY'RE ABOUT TO BREAK." "I'M NOT A DAMN CARPENTER AND I DON'T WANT TO FIX STEPS," HE SAYS. "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE ACE HARDWARE WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON'T THINK SO. I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. I'M GOING TO THE BAR!!!"

SO HE GOES TO THE BAR AND DRINKS FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS. HE STARTS TO FEEL GUILTY ABOUT HOW HE TREATED HIS WIFE, AND DECIDES TO GO HOME AND HELP OUT. AS HE WALKS INTO THE HOUSE HE NOTICES THE STEPS ARE ALREADY FIXED.

AS HE ENTERS THE HOUSE, HE SEES THE HALL LIGHT IS WORKING.

AS HE GOES TO GET A BEER, HE NOTICES THE FRIDGE DOOR IS FIXED.

"HONEY," HE ASKS, "HOW'D ALL THIS GET FIXED?"

SHE SAID, "WELL, WHEN YOU LEFT I SAT OUTSIDE AND CRIED. JUST THEN A NICE YOUNG MAN ASKED ME WHAT WAS WRONG, AND I TOLD HIM. HE OFFERED TO DO ALL THE REPAIRS, AND ALL I HAD TO DO WAS EITHER GO TO BED WITH HIM OR BAKE HIM A CAKE."

HE SAID, "SO WHAT KIND OF CAKE DID YOU BAKE HIM?"

SHE REPLIED, "HELLOOOOO.......DO YOU SEE BETTY CROCKER WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD?

I DON'T THINK SO!"