When I went to lunch today, I noticed an old lady sitting on a park bench sobbing her eyes out. I stopped and asked her what was wrong. She said, “I have a 22-year-old husband at home. He makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly ground coffee.”
I said, “Well, then why are you crying?”
She said, “He makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me for half the afternoon.”
I said, “Well, why are you crying?”
She said, “For dinner he makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite dessert and then makes love to me until 2:00 a.m.”
I said, “Well, why in the world would you be crying?”
She said, “I can't remember where I live.”
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