A man, overwhelmed with guilt and nerves, finally decided he had to come clean to his next-door neighbor, Bob. His hands trembled as he typed out the text, convinced honesty was the only way to ease the weight on his conscience.
“Bob, I’m sorry. I’ve been riddled with guilt and I need to confess: I’ve been helping myself to your wife when you’re not around—probably more than you.
It’s been incredible and I just couldn’t stop. Sometimes it goes on for hours.
I know it’s no excuse, but I don’t get it at home. I can’t live with the guilt anymore.
Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
He hit send.
Across the yard, Bob’s phone buzzed. Within seconds, the peace of the neighborhood shattered. Bob came storming out of his room like a man possessed, waving his phone and yelling accusations at his bewildered wife. She stuttered, cried, and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
Meanwhile, the man watched the chaos unfold through his blinds, feeling his stomach drop as he realized just how badly his message could be interpreted.
Then—another buzz on Bob’s phone.
A second message appeared:
“Bloody autocorrect. I meant to say your Wi-Fi!”
Silence.
Bob froze.
His wife stopped mid-sob.
The man next door sank onto his couch in exhausted relief.
And for the first time in history, someone decided that maybe—just maybe—autocorrect really could destroy a marriage.
