Three older ladies were making dinner when the conversation turned to keeping romance alive.

“My husband still sneaks up behind me while I’m cooking,” said Betty, seventy-two. “Puts his arms around my waist and whispers sweet things.”

“Mine whistles whenever I bend down to check the oven,” said Joan, seventy-five.

Margaret, seventy-eight, kept peeling potatoes.

“Last night, my George came into the kitchen and said, ‘Darling, how about serving me something hot, wild, and wearing absolutely nothing?’”

Betty nearly dropped her spoon. “Good heavens! What did you do?”

“I handed him a freshly boiled potato.”

The other two burst out laughing.

“Was he disappointed?”

“Terribly. He said, ‘Where’s that naughty woman I married?’”

Margaret smiled.

“I told him, ‘She’s still here, sweetheart. And if you wash those dishes properly, she might let you get your hands on her best china.’”