A Polish man, newly married to an American woman, was doing his best to adjust to life in the States. His English wasn’t perfect, but he managed just fine—most of the time.

One afternoon, he burst into a lawyer’s office, clearly distressed.

Man: “Please! I need divorce!”

Lawyer: “Alright, slow down. Let’s start from the beginning. Do you have any grounds?”

Man (nodding eagerly): “Yes, yes! We have one acre and nice little house!”

Lawyer: “No, I mean… do you have a basis for the divorce?”

Man: “Oh! Yes! House has strong concrete foundation!”

Lawyer (sighing): “Okay… do you and your wife have a grudge?”

Man (confused): “No, we have carport. Much better than grudge!”

Lawyer (trying again): “I mean… how’s your relationship?”

Man (shrugging): “Good! Her family in America, mine all in Poland.”

Lawyer: “Has there been any infidelity?”

Man (smiling): “Of course! We have high-fidelity stereo system, very nice sound!”

Lawyer (pinching the bridge of his nose): “No, no… does your wife ever beat you up?”

Man: “What? No! I always wake up before her!”

Lawyer (clearly exasperated): “Then please, why do you want a divorce?!”

Man (leaning in, whispering): “Because she try to kill me.”

Lawyer (alarmed): “Kill you?! What makes you think that?”

Man (dead serious): “I find bottle in bathroom. She buy it from drugstore. I read the label…”

Lawyer: “And?”

Man: “It say right there—‘Regular Polish Remover.’”