After 48 years of marriage, Earl and Mabel agreed on absolutely everything—except the correct temperature of their house.
One freezing winter morning, Mabel shuffled into the living room wrapped in three thick blankets, shivering. “Earl… it’s an absolute icebox in here. Did you touch the thermostat again?”
Earl sat proudly in just a T-shirt, completely unfazed. “Woman, I fought in the war. I can handle a little cold.”
Mabel didn’t miss a beat. “You didn’t fight the cold, Earl. You fought mosquitoes at a training camp in Florida.”
Ten minutes later, the thermostat mysteriously clicked its way up to a tropical 75 degrees.
Earl stared at the digital screen, sighed defeatedly, and muttered:
“Fine, you win. But when the electric bill arrives next month, I’m framing it and hanging it on the wall as a million-dollar piece of modern art.”
