Just Joking, Honey

(A few years ago, I tried my hand at stand-up comedy.  I won't pretend I was good at it but I enjoyed the writing.  Every once in a while I have a thought I find amusing and I add it to the joke file.  Here's one of them.)

I cannot tell you how many times, in 37 years of marriage, I have heard the word “mine” from the wife.  You may feel that I should say “my wife” – or at least be tempted to say “my wife” – but I am “the” husband; I do not have possessions.  The wife has never used the word “our” – as in “our children” or “our car”.  She has certainly never used the word “your” – as in your pants, your socks, your shoes.  When the time comes, I will be put to rest in “her” plot.  I am not sure if that is generosity or punishment.  If you are married, you will hear your wife say: my couch, my table, my pots, my pans, my television, my computer, my condoms, my husband…

The wife will say – when she is mad at me – that she will not take any of my shit.  You may think she is giving me ownership of my shit but she is not.  It’s her shit; she just wants me to hold it for her.  In fact, she insists on it.