
Morris left for a two-day business trip to Chicago.  He was only a few
blocks from his house, when he realized that he had left the airplane
tickets on his bureau top.  He returned and quietly entered the house.
His wife, in her skimpiest negligee, was standing at the sink washing
the breakfast dishes.  She looked so inviting that he tiptoed up behind
her, reached out, and squeezed her breast.
	"Leave only one quart of milk," she said. "Morris won't be here
for breakfast tomorrow."
