Jack woke up with a pounding hangover after his company’s Christmas party. He couldn’t even remember how he got home. Feeling awful, he worried he might have done something embarrassing.
When he finally forced his eyes open, the first thing he noticed was a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the bedside table. Next to them was a single red rose. Confused but slightly relieved, Jack sat up and noticed his clothes, clean and pressed, neatly laid out.
Looking around, he saw the house was spotless—everything in perfect order. Still groggy, Jack shuffled to the bathroom. Staring back at him in the mirror was a massive black eye. Hanging on the corner of the mirror was a note written in red lipstick, with little hearts and a kiss mark:
“Honey, breakfast is on the stove. I left early to get groceries for your favorite dinner tonight. I love you, darling.”
Jack stumbled into the kitchen, and there it was: a hot breakfast, steaming coffee, and the morning paper waiting for him. His son was at the table eating.
Jack, still confused, asked, “Son, what happened last night?”
His son replied, “Well, Dad, you came home around 3 a.m., drunk out of your mind. You tripped over the coffee table and broke it. Then you…uh, pooped in the hallway. And you got that black eye when you ran into the door.”
Jack winced. “So…why is everything so clean? And why did I wake up to breakfast, a rose, and a sweet note from your mom?”
His son smirked. “Oh, that. When Mom was cleaning you up in the bathroom, you screamed at her, ‘Leave me alone! I’m married!’“