An elderly man in his eighties slowly stood up from his recliner and started putting on his coat.

His wife, watching him from her rocker, squinted suspiciously.
“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I’m heading to the doctor,” he replied, patting his pockets for his keys.

“Why? Are you feeling sick?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

He chuckled. “Nope. I’m going to ask about those new Via4ra pills. You know… to try something new.”

She stared at him for a beat, then calmly stood up and began pulling on her sweater.

He frowned. “Wait—where are you going?”

“To the doctor too,” she said, not missing a beat.

“Why?” he asked, puzzled.

She shot him a look and said,
“If you’re planning on using that rusty old thing again, I’m going to need a tetanus shot.”