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Oh, those silly-goose wives of the Eisenhower years.

 

While their husbands were toiling late into the night, inventing the hula hoop and shooting chimpanzees into space, many solitary hausfraus with overactive imaginations actually came to believe that their spouses were entertaining the attentions of women of ill repute.

As though the monkeys were shooting themselves into space!

 

Our story centers on one such poor soul, caught up in the throws of paranoia.  Why does her husband always come home late?  How did that lipstick get on his handkerchief?  And why does his car sound like a Sopwith Camel?

 

In the end, she finds that all of her suspicions are unfounded.  Her husband is, in fact, a paragon of virtue.  He was only helping the town hussy launch a line of designer cosmetics.  Our heroine learns to leave the analytical thinking to the men-folk, her husband is free to pursue his dream of squeeze bottle nail polish, and the town hussy can troll the late night diners to her heart's content.