Lettuce

My wife won’t eat my Lettuce, I won’t eat my wife’s Lettuce, our Lettuce gets old because we each have our own Lettuce and there is to much Lettuce in the house for us both to eat because she won’t eat my Lettuce and I won’t eat her Lettuce.

I don’t like my wife’s Lettuce and my wife doesn’t like my Lettuce, when we buy our Lettuce there is always an overabundance of Lettuce for one person, therefore some of our Lettuce spoils and we have to buy more Lettuce, she won’t eat my Lettuce and I can’t stand her Lettuce, I hate her Lettuce, I would rather drown than eat her Lettuce.
Much of our Lettuce gets thrown in the garbage.

My Lettuce is delicious crispy “Iceberg Lettuce”
My Wife’s Lettuce is “Romaine Crap Lettuce”

When our dead cat was alive, it wouldn’t eat my wife’s Lettuce (Romaine).
When our dead dog was alive, it wouldn’t eat my wife’s Lettuce (Romaine).

When we dine out though, my wife will eat my Lettuce (Iceberg) in her salad (Hypocrite)
When we dine out should they serve “Crap Romaine” (Her Lettuce) I refuse to touch it.

Lettuce, Turnip and Pea.

Author: Red Burtt