Jon left for a two day business trip to Chicago. He was only a
few blocks away from his house when he realized he’d left his
plane ticket on top of his dresser.

He turned around and headed back to the house. He quietly entered
the door, walked into the kitchen. He saw his wife washing the
breakfast dishes, wearing her skimpiest negligee.

She looked so good that he tiptoed up behind her, reached out,
and squeezed her left breast.

“Leave only one quart of milk,” she said. “Jon won’t be here for
breakfast tomorrow.”