There's More

[Rondy]

Rose accompanied her husband Tom to his annual checkup. While Tom was getting dressed, the doctor came out and said to Rose, “I don’t like the way he looks.” “Neither do I,” she said. “But he’s handy around the house.”

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"I've been racking my brains, but I can't place you,” one man said to another at a gathering. “And you look very much like somebody I have seen a lot—somebody I don't like, but I can't tell you why. Isn't that strange?”
"Nothing strange about it,” the other man said. “You have seen me a lot, and I know why you resent me. For two years I passed the collection plate in your church.”
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The psychiatrist was not expecting the distraught stranger who staggered into his office and slumped into a chair. "You've got to help me. I'm losing my memory, Doctor," he sobbed. "I once had a successful business, a wife, home and family; I was a respected member of the community. But all that's gone now. Since my memory began failing, I've lost the business - I couldn't remember my clients' names. My wife and children have left me, too; and why shouldn't they - some nights I wouldn't get home until four or five in the morning. I'd forget where I lived...And it's getting worse. Doctor - it's getting worse!"

"This is not an unusual form of neurosis," the psychiatrist said soothingly. "Now tell me, just how long ago did you first become aware of this condition?"

"Condition?" The man sat up in his chair. "What condition?"

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