Yesterday evening after a fine feast prepared by yours truly from page 345 of the great Studebake cookbook, my lovely satiated pregnant wife uttered despairingly those dreaded words every married man fears most: "Honey, I'm afraid I can no longer do the dishes." My jaw dropped and my heart stopped. "What?" I managed to reply. She pointed to her belly and laughed, "I can't reach!" Speechless, head hanging, I closed my book entitled, "Drake Studebake, the Bravest Shuttlecock Salesman of All Time" grabbed my man-apron and did all the damn dishes I had mucked up over the past four hours preparing my feast.
On to the next morning.
After a sleepless night spent pondering my frightful fate, I moisturized my sensitive hands and went to my closet for a think. I closed my eyes, rubbed my temples and began to curse at the damn sink. Then a vision came to me. What about a womb-friendly sink? Rather, what about THE womb-friendly sink. I could see it before my very eyes. More importantly, I could see it before my wife's very womb. A perfect fit. I've done my best to recreate my vision for you, my dear concerned reader.
The Womb-Friendly Sink
Don't let your pregnancy stop you from doing what you love.
Don't let your pregnancy stop you from doing what you love.
3 comments:
I was thinking more along the lines of an elevated dishwasher. Anyway, The Womb-Friendly Sink slogan is surely the selling point. BRILLIANT stuff here Sir Studebake.
a dishwasher? you must be from the new world where such modern appliances thrive
Thank you Drake
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