After thirty years in the Army, retired Sergeant Frank Miller announced that he was finally ready for a peaceful life.
“No alarms. No orders. No one shouting my name before breakfast.”
His wife, Linda, smiled.
“That sounds lovely. Who are you moving in with?”
Frank wisely changed the subject.
The following morning, he taped a handwritten schedule to the refrigerator:
0900: Breakfast.
1000: Golf.
1300: Lunch with the boys.
1500: Nap.
1800: Dinner.
2000: Quality time with the wife.
Linda studied it over her coffee.
“Twenty hundred hours? How romantic. Shall I wear lingerie or report in uniform?”
“Lingerie,” Frank said immediately.
“Then you’d better move that nap. You’ll need your strength for the garage.”
“The garage?”
“Yes. We’re cleaning it.”
Frank straightened his shoulders.
“Sweetheart, I spent thirty years taking orders. Retirement means I finally get to make my own decisions.”
Linda nodded. “Absolutely. You can start by deciding which shelf the Christmas decorations go on.”
That afternoon, Frank escaped to the veterans’ club.
“I’ve developed a system,” he told his friends. “Whenever Linda mentions chores, I pretend my hearing’s getting worse.”
“Does it work?”
“Beautifully. Yesterday she mentioned vacuuming, and I stared straight ahead until she gave up.”
His friends were impressed.
Unfortunately, Linda arrived behind him just in time to hear the entire explanation.
She said nothing. She simply leaned over and whispered, “I’ve booked us a weekend away. Big hotel bed. Champagne. And I’m bringing that little black outfit you love.”
Frank spun around.
“Really?”
Linda folded her arms.
“Remarkable. Your hearing’s been restored.”
The table erupted.
Frank sighed. “All right. You caught me. What’s my punishment?”
“The garage, the gutters, and dinner with my mother.”
“That’s excessive!”
“You can appeal.”
“To whom?”
Linda pulled up a chair.
“Me. But I should warn you—the judge is sleeping with the prosecution.”😂
