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About Medford mail tribune. (Medford, Or.) 1909-1989 | View Entire Issue (June 2, 1957)
E TB-fl IRONED I One master of the house ML 77 rij.s husband tried Cf o outwit his wife at her own game. by Dick Emmons down to mo deployed in I EPORTS FILTERING from agents strategically homes across the country indicate that American husbands haven't the haziest notion of where the household whisk broom is kept. At first I was inclined to treat this in formation with polite unconcern. But then I began to understand that the whisk broom ignorance is but a telltale thread in the cloak of incompetence our wives have been weaving about us for ages. No man can honestly regard himself as the head of his house when repeatedly he cannot find objects in it; objects, I hasten to add. whose whereabouts always are known to his wife. This basic truth came home to me with a resounding thump the other day when my wife, a small, determined woman with a memory like a bear trap, called down to me to bring her the vacuum cleaner. I darted from closet to closet, my panic increasing. "It's been stolen!" I fi nally shouted up to her. She marched down the stairs, passed me with a hard stare, and drew the machine out from under our bed. "Odd spot for uum cleaner," I weakly. "I have beti keeping it there, off and on, since 1D-19." she replied quickly. "Except, of course, when I tuck it away in the med icine chest," she added. a vac-offered m ": 1 How long are you staying there? I want to make a phone call." Humbled, I carried the vacuum cleaner upstairs, resolving firmly that this latest insult should not go unavenged. A plan formed in my mind. I would fight fire with fire, or, in this instance, vacuum cleaners with pipe racks. That night after the rest of the family had retired, I moved my pipe rack from my desk down to the preserve closet in the basement. A smug smile twitched at the corners of my amiable mouth the next evening when I came home from work, slumped behind my newspaper, and asked my wife to bring me one of my pipes. I couldn't resist a chuckle as she left the room, savoring the moment when I would stalk downstairs to the preserve shelves and remark stiffly that I'd been keeping the rack there since '49. But she reappeared in a moment with my pipe in hand. "Sorry to be so long but the rack is down in the basement," she purred. "That where you want to keep it?" I mumbled something "I don't mind," she breezed, "only I think it's important to know where tilings are. Next time you want to change the loca tion of something tell me or write a little note," she smiled sweetly. "I'll tell you." I prom ised. We both know that I've never been able to find any writing paper around here. WHAT! Add fresh f lemon to frozen orange V v luicer Ye 9 1 BeeauM frown orange juir run vt to be 90 humdrum -and tMta ts pate a it look! A ftwwrooa iuee of frwfi lemon perkt it up, a liTly, raw ting ind tilde frk of freshrwM. Tomorrow morning rve Sunkist larnon wlfl with wh law of frotn ortnj juict. Use thern just m Jom do with torrmto juic. Brt(tfHt trill tat bitter 1 wailes Will be bnahttr. Try this nw idw tomorrow. Iieiemhr to rememhtr K W -.Z . . ' LEMONS Look for the Sunkuit quality ttamp Family Weekly. June 2, 1957 O O
