Good Question

The doghouse needs a paint job now our dog and I have swapped our sleeping quarters after making sure, that the penny dropped. You see I shut up the missus which was a blessing at the time, but to have her being speechless, in our house is a crime. It was a Sunday afternoon when my problem starts to flare, and me on my seventh stubby, so began her questionnaire. ‘How many beers do you drink daily?’ She first said to me, and I shrugged ‘I dunno; maybe I’d average three.’ ‘Three’ she says, ‘every day. So how much do you pay?’ I’m not sure and so I said to her, ‘five bucks each I’d say.’ And of course, this set her mind, towards onward thinking, so, then she’s asking me, ‘how long have you been drinking?’ When I replied ‘twenty years,’ she went for something greater to go shaming me by using, her mental calculator, ‘Five dollars each and three per day; each month five-forty bucks. In just one year that’s seven grand, and boy oh boy that sucks.’ What could I say; she’s right – I took a bite of humble pie, and waited for the next tirade once she looked me in the eye, ‘If you multiply by twenty, and leave out inflation, you’ve spent one-forty thousand in a wasteful situation.’ Drinking beer is wasteful! Has she lost her flamin’ mind? And if I thought she’d finished; that thought soon declined; ‘If you did not drink beer, do you know what you could have done? You could have saved with interest, and our troubles would be none.’ ‘You could have brought an aeroplane after all those twenty years, instead of flushing down the toilet, all those wasteful beers,’ but then one quote from me, is enough to send her near insane, ‘Seeing you’ve not had a glass of beer, where’s your aeroplane?’