Definitely not Aleve

The following story is completely fictional. Any personal or locational resemblance is strictly coincidental.

“Martha, isn’t supper ready yet?”

The querulously complaining voice belonged to long-suffering Martha’s husband, Frank. Crotchety and chronically dissatisfied, Frank had spent his life whining about his circumstances, causing his voice to assume a perpetually complaining timbre. Sweet-tempered Martha had learned to silently endure his endless criticisms and demands.

“It’ll be ready in a minute,” she quietly replied.

After listening to more than the usual amount of negative chatter, Martha inquired if something was wrong.

“Wrong? What on earth could possibly be wrong?” Frank snapped. “My supper is not ready, and my head is pounding. I’m just fine, thank you!”

“Oh, Frank, if your head is hurting, go take an Aleve! I promise supper will be on the table by the time you return.” Frank had finally exhausted Martha’s nearly endless supply of patience, causing her to reply in a slightly tart manner.

Frank went off to take the medicine and returned to see supper on the table as Martha had promised.

After eating two helpings of everything and grudgingly complimenting Martha on the food, Frank retired to the living room where he turned on the TV and aimlessly flipped through the channels. After washing up the supper dishes, Martha joined him and soon became completely immersed in the trials and misadventures of Anne of Green Gables. She had only read a couple of chapters before she began to feel as though someone were watching at her. She looked up to find Frank staring at her, an odd look in his eyes.

“Did you need something, Frank?” Martha sweetly inquired.

“You sure are looking good tonight,” came the unexpected reply.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Martha was pleased with the unusual response and returned to her reading. A few blissfully quiet moments passed.

“Did you do something different to your hair?”

This time it was Frank’s voice that pulled her back to reality. Martha replied that her hairstyle was the same it had been for the past 20 years. Puzzled by Frank’s out-of-character remarks, Martha solicitously inquired about his headache.

“Oh, my head still hurts some, but it’s not too bad now,” Frank replied.

“I knew that Aleve would be just the thing for your headache,” Martha commented, preparing to return to her book.

“Aleve?” Frank questioned. “I thought you said to take some Levitra!”