Sunday morning I got up early, dressed quietly, made my lunch, grabbed the dog, slipped quietly into the garage to put my bike up on my car and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.
The wind was blowing 50 mph. I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout the day.
I went back into the house,quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. There I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible.'
My loving wife replied, 'Can you believe my stupid husband is out biking in that shit?'
I still don't know to this day if she was joking, but I have stopped biking on Sunday mornings.
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