She's sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee. Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box. Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week. Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl. And her husband is on the back of the milk carton.
The angry wife met her husband at the door. There was alcohol on his breath and lipstick on his cheek. "I assume," she snarled, "that there is a very good reason for you to come waltzing in at six o'clock in the morning?"