"It became clear after my colonoscopy that I had to kill her..."

No jury in the world will convict me of murdering the Woman I Love. Why, you ask? Simplicity itself.

Under doctor's orders, I had to go and get one of these damnable procedures last week. Nothing earth-shattering as far as why, I assure you, although the fact that I'd rather get medical instruments shoved in me than go to work for the day speaks volumes about the power of the mind over its environment. Still, I'd be a liar if I didn't confess to a selfish motive for going: A really good quip.

I'd practiced it all day and all night long the twenty-four hours preceding. I would awaken from the anesthesia and sit up in bed, sharp and alert. The doctor would come by, clipboard in hand, a carefully-arranged concerned look on his face, and ask me how I was doing.

And I would reply, oh-so-wittily, "Well, doc, hope it was as good for you as it was for me."

And the entire operating room would erupt in laughter, cancel my bill and send me home with a cigar and a clean bill of help. Nothing could be simpler.

But oh no. Leave it to Kim to screw it all up.

I did, in fact, awaken blearily, in a room I didn't recognize. There were, in fact, people in there. The doctor did come by, and I think he was carrying a clipboard. "Well now, how are we doing?" he asked me cheerfully.

"Ug," I rasped. "Ug uh ug."

"Yeah, you'll be a little tongue-tied for a bit," he said, patting my shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry. You'll come around."

The Woman of My Life chose then to show up. "Oh, he's awake," she said flatly. "What a relief."

"Yeah, you'll probably have to cook him something tonight," the doctor said to her. "Maybe keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't try anything too strenuous."

"Fat chance," she muttered, watching me try to sit up. "That there is more than he's moved all month."

"So, you feeling any better?" the doctor asked me immediately afterwards, hoping to get the niceties out of the way."

"Well...doc..." I started, laboring mightily to form syllables with a tongue and mouth that felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. "Well...well doc..."

"Good, good," he said, glancing at his clipboard. "Okay, let's see, you need to eat something soon, then take a nap. Get dressed, and, as long as your insurance payment processes okay in the next twenty minutes, we'll let you go home."

"Was it...was...was it..." I breathed out, grasping mightily at the few remaining seconds before the joke went flat.

"It went fine," he reassured me. "You're as healthy as a horse. And almost as intelligent."

The room erupted in laughter. I cast them all a withering stare. My joke was better. As long as I could get it out in time.

"Was it--" I began, increasing in strength and confidence.

"It didn't show anything to worry about," he said, glancing at his watch. "Now, I've got to run. Those nine holes aren't going to play themselves."

"Thanks, doctor," Kim said to him, grasping his arm in a neighborly fashion. "I'm sure it was as good for him as it was for you."

Ten times the previous laughter filled the room. Nurses came over and squeezed her hand. The male attendant came over and nudged me. "You got a keeper here, pal," he said, yanking my IV out of my arm with all the sympathy of a pile of rocks. "Hold on to her."

Oh I will. You have no idea...

"Okay, honey. You just rest easy. But are you
sure I have to be standing on a ladder
in a puddle of water to do this?"