When you’re right, you’re wrong

There is only one thing more satisfying to a woman than being right. That is in the process of being right, she proves her husband is wrong.

I know this to be the truth. I’m a husband.

Brian and Evie were off for a short drive.

“Did you lock the front door, Brian?” quizzed Evie after Brian had belted himself in, checked both his mirrors, and began reversing out of the driveway.

“Yes dear,” he replied.

“Better go back and check. There has been quite a rash of break-ins lately,” suggested Evie.

“Yes dear,” answered Brian, realizing arguing would be fruitless. He slipped the vehicle back in park, undid his belt, and skipped up the walk, double locked the front door, and hurried back to the car.

“Satisfied?” he inquired with an air of pained, all-enduring suffering.

“Better safe than sorry,” replied Evie just as smugly. “By the way, you’d better do up your seat belt or you’ll get a ticket.”

“Can’t. It’s jammed. See,” said Brian, pulling half-heartedly at the offending device.

“Better pull over and fix it now. Better safe than sorry,” reaffirmed Evie.

“Naw, I’ll fix it when we get to the mall,” replied Brian stubbornly.

As they pulled up to the first red light, Evie advised, “Brian, there’s a policeman right behind you. You’d better put that seat belt on right now or he’ll give you a ticket.”

“Naw. Maybe he can’t see I don’t have it on and if I grab for it now, he’ll see I haven’t got it on and give me a ticket. We’ll just play it cool,” breezed Brian as he pulled away on the green.

“I tell you, he looks peeved. You’d better put on your seat belt,” insisted Evie as she peered worriedly over her shoulder and Brian pulled up to the next red light.

“And I tell you I can’t, it’s jammed,” repeated Brian as he again pulled futilely on the offending belt, which to his surprise now popped loose.

“There! Put it on,” ordered Evie as the light turned green.

“Can’t. We’re moving. Wouldn’t be safe,” insisted Brian as he jack-rabbitted away from the light.

“It would serve you right if he pulls you over and gives you a ticket right now,” scolded Evie as Brian pulled up to the third red light.

“Not a chance. We’ll be at the mall in half a block and we’re home free,” chortled Brian with glee as he roared away on the green.

Just through the intersection, the lights on the cruiser flashed on and the siren wailed a warning blast. With a sigh, Brian pulled to the curb.

“See, I told you,” stated a smug Evie as the she crossed her arms in triumph.

“Sir, I gave you every opportunity–three lights–to put on your seat belt. But in spite of that you kept flaunting the law,” lectured the officer. “And as for those jack-rabbit starts, I’m afraid I’m going to have to issue you a citation.

“Why couldn’t you respect the law like the lady there with her seat belt securely fastened,” he continued.

“I warned him, officer. I told him to do it up,” chirped Evie, glowing with the pride of righteous vindication.

As Brian shoved his registration, insurance, and driver’s licence through the window, he couldn’t resist the retort, “Here! Just shut up and give me the ticket.”