My wife returned earlier than expected and caught me in the act, in my boxer shorts, ready to climax. I was about to hit the high note in Oasis’ ‘Wonderwall’.
There I stood, in front of my replica jukebox, hands behind my back, virtually naked, psyching myself for the big moment.
“Because maybe… You’re gonna be the one that saves me, ” I sang. “And after all… You’re my wonder—oh, you’re home early.”
“I see the midlife crisis is kicking in nicely, ” my wife sighed, dropping the keys on the table. “Put some clothes on,