When Little Mikey first met us, he was kinda quiet and sort of on the outskirts of the friends and softball circuit. Polite and unassuming would be two good words to describe him.

Or so we thought.

On the first day of our annual softball trip to Florence, South Carolina, Roy's wife Sandra was being her normal sweet self. In other words, she was bitching like hell. Hurricane Sandra. Now don't get me wrong: I actually like Sandra and she likes me, but she has to be one of the most negative people I've ever met. Yeesters.

Anyway, we were all sitting outside of our motel rooms, drinking a few beers and shooting the breeze when Sandra popped out of her room to fulfill part of her Daily Complaint Quota. I don't remember what she was complaining about (I often tune her out--and Roy, for that matter), but when she went back into her motel room, Roy turned to Mike and asked him what he thought of his wife.

Mike looked Roy straight in the eye and deadpanned, "Roy, you have a lovely wife."

I can't remember the last time I actually fell down from laughing.