Tease the Season to be Folly

    The sun was bobbing on the ocean like a cherry in a cocktail before his wife finally got Rudy Simpson off the Cuban beach and into their hotel room.
     "Stupid man," she said sternly. "First day of our vacation and you already have a bad sunburn."
     "I'm fine, honey," he slurred.
     "You are not fine, Rudolph Simpson," she replied tightly. "You look like a tomato." The certainty that he'd be shivering, carping and jelly-legged with frightful sun-burn the next day was bad enough, and her mood was further dampened by the sudden squall outside their window.
      "And now look," she wailed, "It's raining."
      "No, sweetie, it's just a mist," he mumbled drunkenly.
      "It's raining on our vacation," she sobbed.
      "No, listen to me for once," he said. "Rudolph the red knows rain, dear."

The End

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