A: Most men don't fight wars anymore. But there's something embedded deep within our cerebral cortex that still drives us to storm castles, wear ridiculous paint and chant lustily. O.K., so now it's White Castles and eye black and J-E-T-S! But you get the idea.
Q: What is my husband thinking when he takes his sand wedge to bed with us?
A: He's thinking, What if there's a fire in the garage?
Q: Why does my husband always insist that I touch the calcium deposit on his clavicle?
A: I'm not sure you're grasping the historic significance of that calcium deposit. It's from the Slippery Rock B Division Intramural Flag Football Championships. It was his diving catch that forced the overtime that allowed Phi Psi Delta to go on and defeat Six Guys Your Girlfriend Wants. He broke his collarbone on that play. That's his Purple Heart. Indulge him.
Q: When is my husband's high-school linebacker teammate, Hurl, ever going to get off our couch? It's been two months!
A: You don't understand. They're Walla Walla High Fighting Panthers. They vowed to never, ever give up on each other. And aren't you glad he's big on vows?
Q: Will the trash take itself out?
A: Babe, there's only a minute left in the game.
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