A wife came home very late one night after a long evening out.

Trying not to wake anyone, she quietly unlocked the front door, slipped off her shoes and tiptoed down the hallway toward the bedroom.

The house was completely silent.

She slowly opened the bedroom door.

The room was dark, but there was just enough light coming through the curtains for her to see the bed.

Then she froze.

Under the blanket, she could clearly make out four legs.

Not two.

Four.

Her eyes narrowed.

Her heart started pounding.

She stood there for a few seconds, staring in disbelief.

Then anger took over.

Without saying a word, she reached into the closet, grabbed a baseball bat and marched toward the bed.

What followed was absolute chaos.

She swung the bat again and again, pounding the blanket as hard as she could.

When she was finally exhausted, she dropped the bat, took a deep breath and decided she desperately needed a drink.

Still furious, she stormed into the kitchen.

And there, sitting calmly at the table, was her husband reading a magazine.

She stopped dead.

He looked up and smiled.

“Hi darling, your parents have come to visit us, so I let them stay in our bedroom. Did you say hello?”