Having my morning coffee and reading the Daily News about the dummies that live in the area when my wife comes over to announce the bottom fitted sheet on our bed is torn. Could it have been from some energetic love making? No, there hasn’t been any.
So I spring into action as super hero husband. “I’ll take care of it” I confidently announce. Then with super speed I dash into the garage.
After some clanging and banging I emerge. We dash into the bedroom with me carrying my tools. Holding out my hands I show her what I have. Duct tape and string. The heavy kind. “Show me the problem”, I say while ripping off a piece of duct tape.
“No...No” she says.
We’ll get a new set. And new pillow shams. I have no idea what that is. I remember Doug Sham who played Texas rock. Then she says we’ll need a bed skirt and a new duvet to cover it all. Wounded and overwhelmed I stagger backward. A broken superhero. Defeated husband. Alas I put the duct tape and string back in the garage. Where’s my wallet. I’ll need the credit card.