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Marital Bliss Made Less or More

Roy came blundering through the kitchen door, slamming it hastily behind him. His eyes were wide behind the wire rimmed glasses, and his chest heaved.

Miriam eyed him over her bowl of Life cereal, “The McElroy’s dog get loose again.”

“No. It’s definitely not a dog. Dog-like, maybe,” Roy mused as he slowly nudged the sideboard in front of the door. Something heavy slammed into the outside of the door, and the meek man tumbled back to his bum.

Trying to ignore the slow scraping from the other side of what seemed like painfully thin wood, Miriam asked, “Sweetie, what’s outside?”

“All I can say is that I’m very, very sorry.”

“More sorry than Passover at your Aunt Bethel’s or less sorry?”

“Hrmm…probably more.”

“Sweetie, what is outside the door?”

Roy stood and shrugged as he wedged the sideboard more properly into place, “What? Well, that’s a tough question. You could say a lot of things on the subject…”

“Sweetie,” her tone was firm.

“Sufficeth to say, it’s angry, and I, well, I made it.”

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