My wife told me that I did not love any of her relatives.
“Nonsense,” I told her. “That is not true. I love your mother-in-law and father-in-law much more than I love mine.”
Lloyd was teeing off from the back tees. He hit a terrifically hard shot.
Unfortunately, his wife, Jean, was about to tee off from the red tees and was directly in front of him.
The ball hit Jean in the temple and killed her instantly.
A few days later Lloyd received a call from the coroner concerning her autopsy.
“Lloyd, your wife seems to have died from blunt force trauma to the head. You said you hit a golf ball and struck her in the temple. Is that correct?”
“Yes sir,” Lloyd replied, “that’s correct.”
“Well, Lloyd, I also found a large bruise on Jean’s right hip. Do you know anything about that?”
“Yes sir,” Lloyd said, “but it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“I need to know everything before I can make a ruling,” the coroner said. “And don’t worry: believe me, I’ve heard everything.”
“Well, OK,” Lloyd said. “The bruise was from my mulligan.”
I am five feet, three inches tall and pleasingly plump. After I had a minor accident, my mother accompanied me to the emergency room. The nurse asked for my height and weight and I blurted out, “Five-foot-eight, 125 pounds.”
While the nurse pondered over this information, my mother leaned over to me. “Sweetheart,” she gently chided, “this is not the Internet.”