One morning, a woman was preparing breakfast and looked over at her husband who had just settled into his seat at the kitchen table. With a caring smile, she asked, “Would you like some bacon and eggs, maybe a slice of toast, and perhaps some grapefruit juice and a nice cup of coffee?” She was clearly in a good mood and ready to serve him a hearty breakfast. But he shook his head gently and replied, “Thanks for asking, but I’m not hungry right now.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “It’s this Viagra—it’s really taken the edge off my appetite.” She raised an eyebrow at his unexpected explanation but said nothing, assuming he just needed time for things to settle. A few hours later, around lunchtime, she decided to check in on him again. “Would you like something now?” she asked. “How about a bowl of soup, some homemade muffins, or maybe a cheese sandwich?” She was clearly putting effort into offering his favorites, trying to tempt him into eating something. But just like before, he politely declined. “No, still not hungry,” he said. “I’m telling you, it’s the Viagra—it’s really spoiled my need for food.”
She sighed quietly but didn’t push him. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well, and she decided to give him more time. When dinner rolled around, she once again stepped up her efforts, clearly determined to make sure he ate something that day. “How about now?” she asked, trying to sound upbeat. “Would you like a juicy ribeye steak, maybe with mashed potatoes and a little apple pie for dessert? Or I could warm up the rotisserie chicken and throw together a stir fry.” She was clearly hoping something on the menu would break through his stubborn appetite loss. But yet again, he shook his head. “No, I’m still not hungry,” he said. “It’s got to be the Viagra. I haven’t wanted food all day.”
That was the final straw. After spending the whole day trying to make sure her husband was fed and hearing the same excuse over and over, her patience ran out. With a totally straight face, she looked him square in the eyes and said, “Well, would you mind getting off me? I’m bloody starving.” Her words hung in the air for a moment before the humor of it hit. The punchline wasn’t just hilarious—it was perfectly timed and brilliantly delivered after an entire day’s worth of buildup.
What makes the joke work so well is the slow progression, the repeated setups, and the sudden reversal of expectations at the end. We’ve all been there—offering food, trying to help someone feel better, only to realize they may be more focused on other things. Her final line breaks the tension with perfect comedic effect and flips the entire situation on its head. Instead of continuing to accept his excuse, she hits back with her own hilarious truth. It’s not just about food or medicine—it’s about the real dynamics between long-term partners, where honesty, sarcasm, and humor often collide. There’s a relatable rhythm to the way the day unfolds: breakfast, lunch, and dinner, each met with rejection, building to a moment that’s as satisfying as it is funny. The wife’s dry wit and patience make her the star of the story, reminding us that sometimes, the person holding everything together all day deserves more than just a thank-you—they deserve a hot meal. And if that means delivering the best punchline of the day to get it, so be it. The joke is a classic example of how timing and familiarity can make something truly funny, especially in the context of marriage, where the funniest moments often come from everyday frustrations and the clever ways we respond to them.
