Yet another old sitcom adaptation for my favorite couple… The Dick Van Dyke Show: Season 4, Episode 1 (1964). "My Mommy Can Beat Up My Daddy." Enjoy!

There was something about being in traction that took the humor out of things.

That was the only excuse he could think of for his lack of laughter when the rest of the hospital room occupants were doubled over with tears running down their faces.

Of course, the story was pretty funny. Too bad it had be in posted on the Boston Gazette Society page. And too bad it had to be about him.

"How's the nose, Tifton?"

That had been the first shot fired at him that morning from his manager, George, the instant he walked into his office. Little did he know it would be far from the last.

"How'd you know about my nose?"

"Are you kidding? Your schnoz is more famous than Washington's teeth!"

"What?"

"Didn't you see the article?"

Cue sense of impending doom. "What article?"

"The one about your nose, of course."

He took the paper reluctantly, hesitant about what he might find. Unfortunately, it was worse than he could have imagined.

Last night at Rocky Leon's, Jeffrey Tifton, rising star and prodigy of the Boston music scene, introduced me to his lovely fem, Skye. I made note that she was a knockout, and about two minutes later she proved it. A lush got fresh with the little lady, and Jeffrey stepped in to do the Sir Galahad bit. He was promptly flattened with a shot to the snoot, and would have been mauled if his adorable Amazon hadn't decked the bar-fly with a perfectly executed Judo flip. Note to the public: Give Tifton a standing ovation this Sunday at the concert hall, or his wife will flatten you.

He wasn't sure what dropped first: the paper to the floor, or him to the nearest chair.

"How did you find this?"

"It was in Simpson's column this morning."

"In the Gazette?"

"Yeah."

He groaned.

"Well, at least no one reads print anymore."

"Hate to break it to you, man, but the Gazette is online."

"Right." This was too ridiculous to be happening. "I can't believe he published that! She catches one drunk off guard, and suddenly she's the adorable Amazon and I'm the 98 pound weakling."

"You only weigh 98 pounds?"

He chuckled, humorlessly.

"Watch it, man. These hands are registered with the junk yard!"

"Yeah, you're just sore that your wife can beat you up." Sometimes George was too smart for his own good.

"She didn't beat me up. She beat the other guy up."

"Yeah, but he beat you up, and she beat him up, which means that she can beat you up!"

This day was just getting better and better.

(To be continued.)

For more stories, click on "Readwriteedit."