Pity the poor wife for she has forsaken her good nature for the harmony of the union. Whether it be so noble a task as providing a cherished but insalubrious repast or so ignoble a cause as fulfilling a certain forbidden desire she has no remedy but to capitulate to her spouse's yearnings. For the grace of maintaining a concordant relationship she unreservedly subjugates her needs for those of her dominant consort.
And what becomes of her own ascendant essence? It becomes hidden from the world much like the delicate piquancy of a tender artichoke heart enveloped within a collective of spinous petals. And what do I, the churlish member serve in return? Nothing but a token shrug and the reckoning that thank God Almighty my day has come at last. I cannot pretend to fathom the reason, but because she actually profaned our fellow travelers while driving on the New Jersey Turnpike today I feel exonerated and free.
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You go Tammy!
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