Dear Abby just got punk’d again. The following question was run in today’s newspapers by writer Jeanne Phillips:
DEAR ABBY: I am 27, and my wife, “Marybeth,” is 26. We recently went to my folks’ house for supper. That evening a heavy snowstorm was starting and, because the trip home is 30 miles, we decided to stay overnight.
My old bedroom is upstairs, as are the rooms of my brothers, ages 25, 24 and 22. The guest room is downstairs. Because the room is quite small, and Marybeth said she felt a cold coming on, we decided I’d sleep in my old room.
The next day, while we were driving home, Marybeth told me she was glad I had come to her room after all and made love to her.
Abby, it wasn’t me! She had mistaken one of my brothers for me in the darkness. We are all about the same size and build.
I have talked to each of my brothers (they all know about this), but they won’t say who it was for fear of causing a rift between the guilty party and me. I told them that unless I find out who it was, there will be a permanent rift between all of us. (Marybeth still doesn’t know it wasn’t me.)
How do I handle this?
We could be wrong, but it looks like an advice columnist has once again fallen for a prank letter. In our world, when our wife sleeps with one of our brothers… we don’t write Dear Abby about it. Just sayin’.