There is a man in his late sixties near the case with products in a butcher’s shop. By local standards, he is dressed quite stylishly and perhaps even rather expensively – navy jeans, a good sheepskin coat and a pair of quality leather boots. He takes out his cell phone, calls his wife and says to her with kind of enthusiasm:

– Lenusya!* I was wondering if I could take a chicken thigh instead of wings. Or even two thighs…

– [I can’t hear what she says in reply.]

– No! Very nice chicken thighs! – and, turning to the saleswoman, asks her if they’re fresh.

She assures him they were delivered just an hour ago. Fresh, exactly. Naturally, they are fresh.

– Lenochka*, sure they are pretty fresh! Will you cook them together with the wings, eh?

[I can’t hear what she says.]

– What do you mean – who’s going to eat them?! Naturally I am!

[I can’t hear what she says.]

– All right, then. Bye, then. I’ll be there soon.

(I’ve already bought everything, but I am doing my best to pretend I haven’t.  I’m curious to see how things develop and my fingers crossed for a happy ending.)

– Madam, may I have eight wings, please”, – the man says with a sigh.

His bossy bitch wife just didn’t let him.

You might also like: How to dress for a woman of 50

A status thing of my childhood

There’s no moral to this story.

Except that some women are so bossy, and some men are so subservient.

And God sometimes matches them, just for fun.

*A diminutive, affectionate name from Olena

Pic are AI generated