My wife has become very insecure in her middle age. “I’m so jealous of you,” she said. “You’re still good looking and full of confidence.” “Don’t be silly,” I replied. “It should be me who is jealous of you.” “Really?” she asked, as her face lit up. “Of course,” I said. “You get to be married to me. I’m stuck with a fat arsed, miserable bitch.”
