Dave staggered into his home after a night of drinking. He tiptoed up the stairs to avoid disturbing his wife, Karen, but tripped and fell on his rump. With a whiskey bottle in each back pocket, the landing was exceptionally painful. He smothered a shout, pulled down his pants, and peered in the hallway mirror to find that his buttocks were sliced and bleeding.

He quietly found a box of Band-Aids and applied one to each area where he observed blood. He awoke the next morning to find Karen staring down at him, saying, “You were drunk last night, weren’t ya?!” Dave blustered, “Now, why would you think something like that?”

Karen’s response: “Well, it could be the broken glass, it could be the trail of blood through the house or it could be your bloodshot eyes.” “But mostly,” she added, “It’s all those Band-Aids on the hall mirror.”