Ever since we got married, my wife has been on a mission to change me.

Before her, I was the kind of guy who thought dinner meant opening a bag of chips, and “dressing up” meant wearing the T-shirt without holes in it.

But little by little, she worked on me.

First, she got me to stop drinking. Then she convinced me to quit smoking. After that, she somehow managed to stop me from staying out until two in the morning with my friends.

She taught me how to dress properly, how to match my shoes with my belt, and why a man should own more than one decent shirt.

Then she introduced me to the fine arts. Museums, galleries, theater… I even learned to nod thoughtfully in front of paintings I didn’t understand.

She got me into gourmet cooking, classical music, good manners, and even investing in the stock market.

One evening, I was telling all this to a friend.

He listened carefully, then said, “Wow… sounds like your wife really changed you. Are you bitter because she turned you into a completely different man?”

I shook my head.

“No, I’m not bitter at all.”

He looked surprised. “Then what’s the problem?”

I sighed and said,

“Now that I’m so improved, she just isn’t good enough for me.”