“If I were ever to choose a man again,” my beloved started out of the blue while we were having our dinner yesterday, “I would go for a much younger and less grumpy one.” Taken aback, for we were rather quiet all evening, I took my time to respond. “Funny,” I tried my luck at last, “you are by far the grumpier of the two of us.” She kept mum, as if she agreed with me. In fact, she beats me in grumpiness by a wide margin. As for me, I would not go for a woman of any age ever again. As far as grumpiness is concerned, I have more than my fill with my very own.