On the first night of their
honeymoon, the husband isn’t sure how to tell his bride about his stinky feet and smelly socks, while the wife is wondering how to break the news to him about her awful breath, which so far, she’s been able to cover up. After some soul-searching, the
husband gathers his nerve and says, “I have a confession.”
She draws closer, peers into his eyes, and says, “Darling, so do I.”
Recoiling, he says, “Don’t tell me—you’ve eaten my socks.”
