"Are we there yet?" "No." "Are we there yet?" "No." "Are we-." "KEN! You're driving me bonkers." My slightly annoyed, but smirking wife Pam glanced at me from the driver seat. "Let me guess? Is it because we haven't been out for supper in two years?" "Actually, I have to pee," I said, staring at the evergrowing bulge on my waist. Her head snapped sideways. "You're kidding?" "I never kid about peeing, my love of Bugs Bunny or my overwhelming fear of Celine Dion's eyelashes." Pam pulled the van into an overpriced Impark lot, and stopped in the private most spot. "Her eyelashes? Never mind. How shall we do this?" she asked, glancing at her watch and starting to sound stressed. "I was thinking you would start by unbuttoning your dress, while I would fetch the jumper cables and a red squirrel."
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