I’m writing this to tell you that I’m leaving you. I’ve been a good husband to you for seven years but I have nothing to show for it. Last week you came home and didn’t even notice I had a new haircut, had cooked your favorite meal, and was wearing a brand new pair of silk boxers. You ate in two minutes, watched your soaps, and then went right to sleep. You never tell me you love me anymore. We haven’t made love in months. Today when I tried to call you at work, your boss told me that you’d quit your job, and that was the last straw. Either you’re cheating on me, or you just don’t love me anymore, or both. Whatever the case, I’m gone. Your sister Vicki and I are moving to West Virginia together. Have a nice life.
Although it’s true that you and I have been married for seven years, whether you’ve been a good husband or not is open to debate. The reason I watched my soaps was to try to drown out your constant whining and complaining. I did notice when you got a haircut last week — I just didn’t say anything because my mother taught me to keep quiet if I couldn’t think of anything nice to say. And when you cooked what you thought was my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with my sister Vicki, because I stopped eating pork years ago. As for those new silk boxers, the $49.99 price tag was still on them and I hoped that it was only a coincidence that Vicki had just borrowed $50 from me that morning. In spite of all of this, I still hoped that we could work it out. So when I hit the lotto for $10,000,000, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica, but when I got home, you were gone. Oh well, I guess everything happens for a reason. I hope you will finally have the happy, fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer says that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a dime from me.
P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my sister Vicki began life as Victor. I hope that’s not going to be a problem.