Monday was Husband's birthday. After throwing him a mini-family party complete with a birthday top-hat, streamers and his favorite carrot cake, I turned on The Bachelor and he went to bed. Hold the phone...the excitement is killing you, I know. Tuesday morning I woke up feeling a little funny.
Me: "So, you missed your annual birthday lay last night."
Husband: "Your lying."
Me: "No, I'm not! I tried to wake you up last night but you wouldn't budge. It was around midnight."
Husband: "Well, no wonder. I was sound asleep by then."
Me: "Hey, better luck next year."
Me: "Hahahahaha." (thinking: I am soooo funny)
I was in the midst of a virtual pat-on-my-own-back when I walked out of one room and ran into our babysitter in the next. She heard the whole thing. Oops.
The babysitter - a lovely 60-something year old woman who may or may not wear a wig - is supposed to be at our house by 7:30am. I gave her a key so I could avoid running downstairs in a towel every morning. 7:30am quickly became 7:20am and I wasn't complaining. Then 7:20am became 7:15am and I still wasn't complaining. Now 7:15am has become 7:05am and I'm sort of complaining. It's just weird to have some old lady lurking in the dark shadows of your house before you are even awake. She lets herself in and then sits silently in the dark waiting. I'm sure she's just trying to be respectful (while keeping our energy costs down?) but it's sort of strange.
But hell, who isn't a little strange. And my hair looks like a wig half of the time too. One thing is for sure: Husband will stay up for the full episode of The Bachelor next February 27th.