On their anniversary night, the blonde husband sat his wife down in the bedroom with her favorite magazine, turned on the soft reading lamp, slipped off her shoes, patted and propped her feet and announced that he was preparing dinner all by himself.

"How romantic!" she thought.

Two-and-a-half hours later, she was still waiting for dinner to be served. She tiptoed to the kitchen and found it a colossal mess.

Her harried blond husband, removing something indescribable from the smoking oven, saw her in the doorway.

"Almost ready!" he vowed. "Sorry it took me so long but I had to refill the pepper shaker."

"Why, honey, how long could that have taken you?"

"More than an hour, I reckon. Wasn't easy stuffing' it through those dumb little holes."