A lady walked into the kitchen one afternoon and located her husband intensely stalking across the room, clutching a plastic fly swatter like a high-stakes hunter.
“What on earth are you doing?” she requested, amused.
“Searching flies,” he whispered grimly, with out breaking eye contact with the wall.
“Oh, actually?” she chuckled. “Have you ever really managed to kill any but?”
“Yep,” he answered proudly. “5 up to now. Three males and two females.”
Intrigued by his sudden experience, the spouse crossed her arms and requested, “Oh, come on. How might you probably inform the distinction between female and male flies?”
The husband lowered his swatter, checked out her deadpan, and replied:
“It was straightforward. Three of them have been sitting on a beer can, and the opposite two have been on the phone.”
