One morning, a husband was calmly enjoying his coffee on the couch when his wife burst in, armed with a screwdriver, a wrench, and a look of utter confusion.
“The washing machine isn’t working,” she declared.
He sighed, putting down his mug. “Okay, I’ll check it out.”
She folded her arms. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on washing machines?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well… I can give it a try—”
“Careful! CAREFUL!” she yelled as he knelt by the appliance. “You have to open it the right way! Oh my GOD! Do you even know what you’re doing?! LEFTY LOOSEY, RIGHTY TIGHTY! No, no, NO! Not like that! You’ll ruin it! Do you even know what this part does? WHERE ARE THE INSTRUCTIONS? Did you read the instructions?!”
He looked up at her, bewildered.
“Be careful with that screwdriver! You’ll electrocute yourself! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?! Maybe call a professional! Oh my GOD, you never listen! Why are you even touching that?! USE A WRENCH! A WRENCH, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE—”
The husband slowly stood, brushed off his hands, and stared her down.
“Now you know how it feels when I cook dinner.”
He’s expected to regain consciousness in a few days.
