It was inevitable. My Sainted wife's enthusiasm for gardening outgrew our little patch of suburbia and led her to joining the local Garden Club, where her cheerful disposition recently got her elected president. "Good for her!" you may cry.
Not so good for me, however. I am being told to watch my manners in public around town, stop barking at neighborhood urchins, keep the car clean, and all manner of crap. She keeps blathering about how she must uphold an image. Ever seen Hyacinth Bucket ("Its Bouquet, not Bucket") on "Keeping Up Appearances?" I'm living her husband Richard's life. It's not pretty.
And having to address her as "Madam President" when we're in public is really too much.
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