My Wife Pleads for Mercy as she is Trampled
"Nemutai," says my wife. "Nemutai!
She is protesting in Japanese, saying that she wants to sleep. She is proresting because it is now about 0130 and a large animal of some descriprion is trampling on her. The large animal is me, her husband. I am blundering around in the dark, trying to find the toilet but totally lost, and I keep treading on soft squishy things, such as my wife and daughter.
If you step on a small child and squash all the air our of her, as a general rule no lasting harm is donee, because she will eventually reflate and rhen be as good as ever. This is what happened to my three-year-old daughter Cornucopia, so, in the morning, I took her to the daycare center as usual.
Once back home, I hauled the following things downstairs: a mattress, a futon, two sheets, a blanket, a duvet and a pillow. Using that stuff, I set up a bed for myself in the living room, in front of the TV, and I plan to sleep there from now on, in the wild lands south of human civilization, where my brain-damaged dinosaur misdeeds will cause nobody any harm.
This exile, I must make clear, is self-chosen, not something inflicted upon me by my long-suffering wife or protesting daughter.