A man wakes up one morning with the filthiest hangover and no
recollection of the night before. Slowly opening his eyes, he sees
a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside
table.
He looks around the room to find his clothes are on the dresser,
neatly folded, with a clean shirt on top. The bedroom is
immaculate. On the bedside table is a note, which says, 'Darling,
your breakfast is in the kitchen. I love you.'
Downstairs, he finds his favourite cereal, croissants, fresh OJ and
freshly brewed coffee laid out waiting for him, along with the
morning paper - and his 15-year-old son, who is finishing his own
breakfast.
'Tell me, son,' he asks, 'what happened last night?'
'Well, says the boy, 'you came home so blind drunk you didn't even
know your own name. You nearly broke the door down, then you were
sick in the hallway, then you knocked the furniture over and when
Mum tried to calm you down, you thought she was the police, so you
gave her a black eye.'
'Christ!' says the man. 'Then how come my clothes are all folded,
the house is tidy and my breakfast is ready?'
'When Mum dragged you into the bedroom and tried to get your
trousers off to put you into bed, you shouted at her, 'Get your
filthy hands off me, you whore, I'm married!''
