Power corrupts

"Good morning Sweetie. Are you awake?"
"I think so."
"Can you hear my stomach growling?
"I heard something, but I wasn't sure. . ."
"I'm awfully hungry. . . Why don't you get up and cook a real nice brekkie?"
"Actually I'm not that hungry, but if you decide to get up, think you could scorch me a steak with a mess of hashbrowns?"
"Aw come on Sweetie. . . I'll wash your car after."
"I don't know. . . everybody knows it's the wife who usually cooks breakfast."
"But you're such a fantastic cook. Come on Dear. . . up and at 'em. Oh, and don't forget, I take margarine on my toast."
"Since I do all the outdoor cooking, you should do all the indoor cooking. It's only fair."
"Fair? We have maybe five barbecues a year. Is that fair?"
"But I usually have ten or twelve people to cook for. . . it all works out."
"You don't do anything in the winter."
"I shovel snow."
"So do I!"
"Did you know that MacLeans Magazine says that wives who wear pajamas in bed become frigid?"
"yeah, well, did you know that only uncouth husbands sleep naked?"
"Did your Mom tell you that?"
"No, I read it in Cosmo."
"Naked is comfortable. If you didn't have pajamas on you'd probably still be asleep."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't be!
"True. I'd probably be up cooking you a beautiful breakfast."
"Well okay then. . . if you cook breakfast, I'll take off my pajamas."
"Okay. Go ahead. . ."
"No, no. First you cook breakfast, then I'll take my pajamas off."
"Isn't that blackmail or something?"
"It's not blackmail if you're married."
"So I'll cook breakfast, then I come back upstairs and. . ."
"No. It doesn't work like that."
"How about if I promise to cook you a magnificent breakfast. . . after?"
"No. It doesn't work like that either."
"Okay, how does it work?"
"Well, you go downstairs and you slowly cook a beautiful brekkie and when it's all done you call me. Then I take off my pajamas. . . "
"And then I run back upstairs and. . ."
"No. . . then I get dressed and join you downstairs for that magnificent breakfast."
"And after breakfast?"
"I'll do the dishes. . . unless you want to?"
That's not fair. You lied."
"No. I said if you cook brekkie, I'll take my pajamas off. . . and I will, honest."
"Okay, okay. How about this then? I'll go downstairs, cook a zinger of a breakfast, put it all in the oven to keep it warm. . . slowly come back upstairs and slowly say, Dearie, breakfast is cooked, then I quickly jump back into bed?"
"That'll be great. Then I'll quickly jump out of bed and go into the bathroom, take off my pajamas, have a nice, long shower, because I know my zinger of a breakfast is being kept warm, pull on a skirt or jeans or something, and we both go down and have a hearty zinger brekkie. How's that for good planning?"
"Oh, God, yes. You're a devil of a planner! You know what? I'm really not hungry. I think I'll just lay here and think of Paris Hilton."
"Good choice. She's so pretty. And guess what. . . she doesn't wear pajamas in bed!"
"Oh?. . . Cosmo?"
"My Mom."
"You're kind of pretty yourself, especially when you're trying to be funny."
"And you're kind of funny when you're trying to butter me up."
"I'd never do that. You don't like butter."
"True. . . still, an honest compliment can sometimes achieve fantastic results."
"I love the way your nose turns up slightly. . . And your hair! Your hair reminds me of a Mexican sunset. . . and your figure is fantastic though you could probably put on a couple of pounds to make it absolutely perfect, and your eyes. . ."
"Okay, okay, that's enough. . . do you really think I could use a few more pounds?"
"Absobloodylutely! At least five!"
"Well, I'm not sure how honest you're being, but it sounds awfully nice."
"Nice enough to achieve fantastic results?"
"Maybe. . . any chance you could wash my car. . . after?"

Dimmy