George wakes up with a brutal hangover after his company Christmas party. He’s not much of a drinker, but those fancy cocktails didn’t taste like they had alcohol in them at all. He can’t even remember getting home. With his head pounding, he slowly opens his eyes — and right on the nightstand he sees two aspirin, a glass of water, and a single red rose. He sits up and notices his clothes, all neatly folded and pressed. The bedroom is spotless… the whole house is spotless. He shuffles to the bathroom, takes the aspirin, and nearly jumps when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the mirror. Then he spots a note hanging on the mirror, written in red ink with little hearts and a lipstick kiss: “Honey, breakfast is on the stove. I went to the store early so I can make your favorite dinner tonight. I love you! — Jillian” Still confused, he heads to the kitchen. Sure enough — hot breakfast, fresh coffee, and the morning paper… and his 16-year-old son sitting at the table. George asks, “Kid… what on earth happened last night?” His son says, “Well… you came home after 3 a.m., completely out of your mind. You fell over the coffee table and broke it. Then you threw up in the hallway and ran into the door — that’s how you got the black eye.” George shakes his head. “Then why is the house spotless? Why is there a rose? And why did your mother make me breakfast?” His son grins and says: “Well… when Mom dragged you to the bedroom and tried to take your pants off, you yelled… ‘Leave me alone — I’m married!’”
