I have posted this on several fora.  I can not for the life of me recall whether or not I ever posted it here.
For those annoyed by repetition, I apologize for posting this again.


Some years ago, when my annual salary reached serious, but not yet stratospheric, levels my wife began agitating me to allow her to hire some domestic help for her around the house.

Initially I was resistant to the suggestion, but after some weekly nagging sessions, I began to relent. So I finally told her she could hire domestic help, but, according to my specifications. "Ok, Honey," I told her, "You can hire a six-foot tall, blue-eyed, Swedish, sleep-in maid, with shoulder-length blonde hair, who's built like a brick pagoda."

The following week, while I was at work, she commenced holding interviews with prospective applicants. Arriving home from work that Friday she informed me, "I found the perfect candidate, Honey, and I hired according to your exact specifications.  His name is Lars and he starts on Monday.

I just love smart ladies.