My wife told me the other day that the universe was a manifestation of her inner self and therefore I was simply a figment of her imagination.

I took it on the chin and went to the pub, drank all night with my mates, slept in until 1 PM, then got up and demanded fried eggs for breakfast.

She asked me if I had lost my mind, to which I replied: “As you said yesterday, me and my behaviour are purely manifestations of your own subconscious mind.”

She has since decided that I am the centre of the universe and that if I ever want my imaginary wife to cook dinner for me again I’ll need to become a better person…