Repairs

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A woman could never get her husband to do anything around the house. He would come home from work, sit in front of the TV, eat dinner, and sit some more–would never do those little household repairs that most husbands take care of. This frustrated the woman quite a bit.
One day the toilet stopped up. When her husband got home, she said sweetly, “Honey, the toilet is clogged. Would you look at it?” Her husband snarled, “What do I look like? The tidy-bowl man?” and sat down on the sofa.
The next day, the garbage disposal wouldn’t work. When her husband got home, she said, very nicely, “Honey, the disposal won’t work. Would you try to fix it for me?” Once again, he growled, “What do I look like? Mr. Plumber?”
The next day, the washing machine was on the blink. When her husband got home, she steeled her courage and said, “Honey, the washer isn’t running. Would you check on it?” And again was met with a snarl, “What do I look like? The Maytag repairman?
Finally, she had had enough. The next morning, the woman called three repairmen to fix the toilet, the garbage disposal, and the washer. When her husband got home, she said, “Honey, I had the repairmen out today.” He frowned, “Well, how much is that going to cost?”
“Well, honey, they all said I could pay them by baking them a cake or having sex with them.” “Well, what kind of cakes did you bake them?” he asked. She smiled. “What do I look like? Betty Crocker?”

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