Pamper Pants

"I'm sick and tired of being disrespected. No matter how much I lay down the law, she basically ignores me!"
Augusta was one of my favorite courses to play. I bent down to survey the slope of the green. This was going to be a tricky shot.
"Would you be afraid of a snaggletoothed lion with no claws? I asked my friend as I placed my golfball on the tee.
"No."
"Why not? He would still be "King" of the jungle".
"Sure, he'd still be the king of the jungle, but without those teeth and claws he might as well be a big house cat."
My friend was a model who had been featured in several major international publications. He was used to the finer things in life and, like myself, earned his living off of his looks, charm and charisma. His problems began when he allowed himself  to fall in love with his benefactress.
"Would it be fair to say you were a "pampered" man?" I asked.
"That would be fair."
"And how would you describe this "Life of Riley"?
"Well, she makes sure that I keep money in my pocket. I don't have to pay any rent because she lets me stay in her house and she pays the note and insurance on the Benz."
"What about your food and clothes?"
"We have a personal chef that cooks during the week and she keeps me looking good."
"Then why are you complaining? It sounds like you have it made."
"I'm complaining because she doesn't ask my opinion on anything!" he yelled.
"Whenever I offer a suggestion, she just brushes me off and calls me cute."
"So, basically, you want to wear the pants."
"Yes, I want my voice to be heard in my relationship!"
Judging from the annoyed stares we were attracting due to his loud outbursts I was certain his voice was not the problem.
"It's hard to demand the pants when you're wearing a pamper. You're a Pamper Pants"
"A what? What on Earth is a pamper pants, Vincent?"
I wanted to be tactful, but I had to be direct.
"A pamper pants is a man who enjoys being pampered by a woman, but wears a pamper when it comes to influencing her decision making process."
"But that's not fair,  he retorted. "A woman is supposed to support and take care of her man!"
"Not like she's his mama. Let me ask you a question. How serious would the world have taken Hitler if he was walking around in a pamper?"
After a moment of silence, he responded.
"Wow..."
"Exactly."
I selected a five iron from my bag and lined up my swing.
"Four!" I yelled as I looked down the green way and blasted the ball towards the white flag.