Yesterday I arrived home late, after a very tough day trying to get a stay of execution on a man I believe was innocent.
My last minute plea for clemency to the Governor had failed and I was feeling worn out and depressed.
As soon as I walked through the door at home, my wife started in on me about, "What time of night to be getting home is this? Where have you been? Dinner is cold and I'm not reheating it." And on and on and on.
Too emotionally worn to play my usual role in this familiar ritual, I poured myself a shot of whiskey and headed off for a long hot soak in the tub, pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks as I dragged myself up the stairs.
While I was in the bath, the phone rang. My wife answered and was told that her husband's client, James Wright, had been granted a stay of execution after all. Wright would not be hanged tonight.
Finally realizing what a terrible day I must have had, she decided to come upstairs and give me the good news.
As she opened the bathroom door, she was greeted by the sight of me, bent over naked, drying my legs and feet.
"They're not hanging Wright tonight," she said.
I whirled around and screamed, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN, DON'T YOU EVER STOP?!”
