By the time Willard pulled into a little town every hotel room was taken. He finally pulled up to the very last hotel and went into the office.

"You've got to have a room somewhere," he pleaded. "Or just a bed - I don't care where."

"Well, I do have a double room with one occupant," admitted the manager, "and he might be glad to split the cost. But to tell you the truth, he snores so loudly that people in adjoining rooms have complained in the past. I'm not sure it'd be worth it to you."

"No problem," the tired travellers assured him. "I'll take it."

The next morning Willard came down to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

"How'd you sleep?" asked the manager.

"Never better."

The manager was impressed. "No problem with the other guy snoring, then?"

"Nope, I shut him up in no time" said Willard.

"How'd you manage that?" asked the manager.

"He was already in bed, snoring away, when I came in the room," Willard explained. "I went over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, said, 'Goodnight, beautiful,' and he sat up all night watching me."

A henpecked husband was advised by a psychiatrist to assert himself.

"You don't have to let your wife bully you," he said. "Go home and show her you're the boss."

The husband decided to take the doctor's advice. He went home, slammed the door, shook his fist in his wife's face, and growled, "From now on you're taking orders from me. I want my supper right now, and when you get it on the table, go upstairs and lay out my clothes. Tonight I am going out with the boys. You are going to stay at home where you belong. Another thing, you know who is going to tie my bow tie?"

"I certainly do," said his wife calmly, "the undertaker."