It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon. Otis had made his rounds around town making sure everybody had everything under control. He decided it was time to wander over to the Town Common, make sure the bandstand was in fine shape and take up a perch on one of the benches in the shade. “Golly,” he thought. “I might even take a nap.”

After checking out the bandstand, Otis decided his favorite bench on the far back corner would suffice, after all, he could keep an eye on what was going on at the town office and see if any newcomers arrived in town.

But on his way, he passed an elderly woman he reckoned he didn’t really know. She was sitting on his second favorite bench sobbing her eyes out.

“What’s wrong with you, lady?” he asked.

“I have a 22-year old husband at home. He makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly ground coffee.” she sobbed.

“But why are you crying so?” asked Otis once again.

“He makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me for half the afternoon.” she continues to wail and Otis is completely puzzled.

“That all sounds wonderful, lady,” replied Otis, “But it confuses me as to why you are so upset that you’re crying like this?”

“For dinner he makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite dessert and then makes love to me until 2:00 a.m.” the sobbing was obnoxious.

“None of this makes any sense to me, lady!” Otis exclaimed, coming to the end of his patience. “I’m going to ask you one more time, why are you crying so?”

“I can’t remember where I live!”