[A perfect-looking house—the kind you find in magazines.  A perfect-looking WIFE puts the finishing touches on her perfect-looking living room.  The front door opens and HUSBAND enters.]

HUSBAND: Hi, Honey!  I’m home!

WIFE: Who are you?  What are you doing in my house?!

HUSBAND: I’m your new husband.  Where should I put my coat?

[He tries to kiss WIFE, but she backs away from him terrified.]

WIFE: Don’t touch me!  I’ll scream!  I’ll call the police!

HUSBAND: Aren’t you going to ask how my day was?

WIFE: [Attempting to pacify him.] How … how was your day?

HUSBAND: It was awful!  Just like every other day!  Same old boring job.  Same old boring boss.  Same old boring life.  And then, on the way home, suddenly it hit to me—why come home to the same old boring wife and house and kids and dog when I could try something new?

WIFE: But you can’t just—

HUSBAND: I’ve always admired your home. It’s very well kept.

WIFE: Thank you, but—

HUSBAND: I pass it every day on my way to work, so I thought today I’d give it a try. It has to be more exciting than the one I’ve been coming home to for the past fifteen years.

WIFE: But … I already have a husband.

HUSBAND: He can have my life.  Where does he work?

WIFE: He’s an executive.  At a technology company.

HUSBAND: Perfect!  I love technology!  All those little gadgets and stuff!  It’ll be great!

WIFE: Look, I’m … I’m sorry your life is so boring.  My life is boring too.  But you can’t just walk in here and expect us to—

HUSBAND: Oh!  I almost forgot!  I brought you flowers!

[He produces a bouquet of flowers from his coat.]

WIFE: You brought me flowers?

HUSBAND: They’re orchids—a symbol of rare beauty and eternal love—my love for you.

WIFE: My … my husband hasn’t brought me flowers in almost fifteen years.

HUSBAND: I wrote you a poem too.

WIFE: A poem?

HUSBAND: Would you like me to recite it?

WIFE: Well … if you went to the trouble of writing it … I … I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

HUSBAND: You take my breath away.

Like the sunset or a summer day.

When I gaze at the moon

Or the ocean blue

They pale beside the sight of you.

You take my breath away.

WIFE: That’s beautiful.  You … you really wrote that?

HUSBAND: For you.

[Pause.  She considers this.]

WIFE: Do you pee in the shower?

HUSBAND: Never.

WIFE: Hog the sheets?

HUSBAND: Nope.

WIFE: Snore?

HUSBAND: I don’t think so.

WIFE: Any history of baldness in your family?

HUSBAND: On the contrary.  We’re very hairy.

WIFE: Would you do your own laundry or wait for me to do it.

HUSBAND: Do it myself.

WIFE: Fix the toilet or call a plumber?

HUSBAND: Fix it.

WIFE: Shingle the roof or buy a new house?

HUSBAND: New house.

WIFE: Anniversary in Maui or Vegas?

HUSBAND:  Maui .

WIFE: Watch football or do me in the kitchen?

HUSBAND: Do you really have to ask?

WIFE: Will you constantly try to pork me in the rear?

HUSBAND: Only if you want me to.

WIFE: Tell me about your first wife.

HUSBAND: She was a nag. A nag with no boobs. She had boobs until the baby was born, but he sucked them right off. I’m a boob man, so it was completely unworkable.

WIFE: You left because she lost her boobs?

HUSBAND: There were other things.  But I have to be honest—it was mainly the boobs.

WIFE: What if I lose my boobs? Will you leave me too?

HUSBAND: It looks like you’ve got plenty to spare! [They make out.] Can we have sex now?

WIFE: Easy, Tiger.  You’ll have to win the kids over first.  Children!

* * *

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