It wouldn't be so bad if we weren't dirt poor right now. That's why the prostitution thing sounds so attractive. I tried to save some money this week by taking our vacuum cleaner into the repair shop. It smelled like a dead raccoon and vomit taco each time we turned it on. Mike wanted to buy a new one but I told him it was a good vacuum and we shouldn't give up on it. So I loaded up the kids in the car and drove them to the French Town section of Tallahassee to give my vacuum a day at the vacuum spa. If you're not familiar with French Town, it is where you can buy crack, get a BJ by a toothless gypsy, and get your vacuum repaired. I text my husband right away and told him how good the vacuum smelled and how it sucked real good now. My sister reminded me that I probably should not have told him that because he would probably leave me for the vacuum. But, I'm pretty sure the vacuum is a metaphor for me.
Don't throw your old wife away and get a new one. She probably just needs a day at the spa.