A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors, and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch: You may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building. So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.

On the first floor, the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord.

My husband, Michael, and I were at a restaurant with his boss, a rather stern older man. When Michael began a tale, which I was sure he had told before, I gave him a kick under the table. There was no response, so I gave him another poke. Still the story went on. Suddenly he stopped, grinned and said, "Oh, but I've told you this one before, haven't I?"

We all chuckled and changed the subject. Later, on the dance floor, I asked my husband why it had taken him so long to get my message.

Jane had a system for labelling home-made freezer meals.

She would carefully note in large clear letters, "Meatloaf" or "Pot Roast" or "Steak and Vegetables" or "Chicken and Dumplings" or "Beef Pot Pie."

Everyday when she asked her husband what he wanted for dinner, he never asked for any of those meals. She decided to stock the freezer with his various requests. What he really likes.

I don't do windows because...
I love birds and don't want one to run into a clean window and get hurt.

I don't wax floors because...
I am terrified a guest will slip and get hurt then I'll feel terrible ( plus they may sue me.)

I don't mind the dust bunnies because...
They are very good company; I have named most of them, and they agree with everything I say.

Our bathroom is in the back of the house and it's difficult to hear if someone is on the property to conduct inspections, maintenance or even to visit.

One morning while getting ready for work, and thinking I was the only one at home, I kept hearing something crawl around under my bathroom floor. Thinking that somehow the neighbor's cat had gotten under the house, I began stomping the floor hard and shouting at the top of my lungs, "Get out of there!" and "Stop that!"

Finally, the moving stopped so I finished getting ready and left for work.

I recently overheard a boss talking to one of his employees at a restaurant recently.

"Was your wife mad when you got home so late last night?" the boss asked.

"Yes, she was plumb historical," the employee replied.

"Don't you mean hysterical?"

"No, I mean historical. She brought up things that happened forty years ago."

The wives of two Baptist pastors, had a friendship that was unending.

Were sitting together as they worked - their husband's clothes they were mending.

One said to the other, "My poor John is so discouraged with preaching.

He's about ready to give it up - there are no souls that he's reaching."

He said nothing is going right - no new faces does he ever see.

My wife and I were sitting in the living room and I said to her, "Just so you know, I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

She got up, unplugged the TV and threw out all of my beer!

After four years of separation, my wife and I finally divorced amicably. I wanted to date again, but I had no idea of how to start, so I decided to look in the personals column of the local newspaper. After reading through all the listings, I circled three that seemed possible in terms of age and interest, but I put off calling them.

Two days later, there was a message on my answering machine from my ex-wife. "I came over to your house to borrow some tools today and saw the ads you circled in the paper. Don't call the one in the second column. It's me."

After eight days of backpacking with my wife Linda, we were looking pretty scruffy. One morning she came to breakfast in a baseball cap, her shoulder length hair sticking out at odd angles.

"Terry," she said, "does my hair make me look like a water buffalo?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "If I tell you the truth, do you promise not to charge?"