I guess he should have just gone fishing.


Saturday morning I got up early, put on my long johns, dressed quietly,
made my lunch, grabbed the dog, slipped quietly into the garage to hook
the boat up to the truck, and proceeded to go back out into a torrential
downpour. There was snow mixed with the rain, and the wind was blowing 50
mph.


I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that
the weather would be bad throughout the day. I went back into the house,
quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. There I cuddled up to my
wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The
weather out there is terrible."


She sleepily replied, "Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing
in that crap?"