“What’s that you’re building in the backyard?” says Wifey.
“It’s a she shed, Sweetie,” says I.
“It’s a man cave for women. Comes from Australia where every Sheila has a she-shed to shelter herself from the sheep and sheep-shearing stuff, see? Just the shell up so far. When I get sheetrock and shelves in and shellac it, you’ll have a she-shed.”
“Why isn’t it a he shed? Why don’t you shed up?”
“Could do. Or we can bed-and-breakfast it ... a she shed share.”
“Sherman Schultz over in Shoreview built his wife Shirley a shoddy she shed and she sued him.”
“Shirley’s a shrew. She shouldn’t shed tears over a silly she shed, should she?”
“Yeah, well Sherm’s a schmuck. They had a real set-to over that she shed shack. The suit was a shambles ... shameful.”
“Sheesh! A she shed he-said she-said, you mean?”
“Shut up, Schuster!”