The Trouble with Husbands

I hope that you won't think that I'm

prying into your personal life.

But it has been called to my attention

that there is an increasing domestic unrest

in this country.

Now by domestic unrest, I mean that husbands

and wives seem to be getting on each other's nerves.

Nothing personal, of course.

Here in the laboratory, we have been working on this problem.

And today we want to take up what we call the women's angle

in this war of nerves and show a few of the small things which

husbands do which can irritate wives

to the point of whatever that point is just

before a woman kills a man.

Now, here is an example of a very common trick

among husbands which is known as the delayed ablutions

trick, in which the husband waits

until dinner is ready before getting ready for dinner.

Are you ready for dinner?

Ready and waiting, honey.

What's cooking?

You'll see.

It's a surprise.

This man has just come home from work.

He's a good man and mean swell and during this half

hour before dinner, tries to keep his wife

informed on world affairs.

Listen to this.

It's from Carapuxit, Idaho.

Returning from church yesterday morning, Jasper Arthur,

97-year-old Carapuxit farmer, saw something gleaming

at the side of the road.

Stooping to pick it up, Arthur broke three ribs

but recovered a silver spoon lost by him as a child

nearly a century ago.

Hey, look at that.

Soup's on.

Come and get it.

I'll be right there.

We need hardly say that this action

is ill advised at this time.

Among the 35,000 wives questioned in our survey,

84% agreed that the husband's waiting to clean up

until dinner is on the table is one of the greatest

causes of domestic unrest.

Dinner is ready, Joe.

What are you doing?

I'll be right down.

We found in our survey that at this point

a great many women are tempted to put poison

into the next plate of soup, which

may account for the prevalence of indigestion

among married men.

Here we are.

Oh, clam chowder.

Cold, though.

What have I done?

Now here's a case of domestic economy

which is neither domestic nor economical.

And we find it cropping up usually around about supper

time on Sunday nights.

We just need a half a pound of butter, that's all.

The delicatessen will have it.

You see, here it is Sunday night and we have

to buy at the delicatessen.

It cost us twice as much as at the grocery store.

You ought to have a businessman run your household for you.

There'd be no more of this last minute

Sunday night delicatessen buying.

Pound of butter, is that right?

Half a pound of butter.

Half a pound.

Oh, good evening, sir.

What can I do for you?

Well, I just want half a mark.

Well, something very special, almost impossible to get

these days, half sour pickle.

Half sour pickle.

$0.60 a dozen.

Give me a dozen.

Yes, sir.

Anything else, sir?

Don't tell me.

I didn't know they made them anymore.

I haven't had any of those since I was a kid.

Give me some of those, boy.

Yes, sir.

You might put in three or four of those pigs feet.

I can eat three myself.

What's this?

Some sort of new way of doing up bacon?

What do you know about that?

Put one of those in.

Plenty of onion in that potato salad?

Give me a, you know, just a portion of it.

OK.

You might put in some of that pickle ...

Yes. Anything else, sir?

Lobster?

Is that real fresh lobster?

Absolutely.

Perfectly safe?

Absolutely.

Say, that looks good.

I'll have some of that, I guess.

Thank you very much.

And do come back again.

I certainly will, sir.