Does anyone remember when I complained about birthday parties with way too many kids? Yeah, well, I've found something worse. I took my daughter to a birthday party last night where she was the only guest. Creepy.
This little girl was in 3-year-old preschool with my daughter and she lives on base. Unfortunately, her family is freaky. Freaky with a capitol F. But I felt bad for her, and her daddy works with my husband. So I left the boys at home and my daughter and I walked over.
It was so awkward.
Anyway, since the party started after my son's bed time, my husband was supposed to put him to bed while we were gone. When we walked in the door after the party, my son came running up to us still fully dressed. "Daddy's sleeping," he said.
Yup. My husband was conked out in bed, with Barney playing on the TV.
So I got the kids in PJs and off to bed. He roused enough to kiss them goodnight, apologize to me, and thank me for putting them to bed. Then he was out like a light again.
And all I can think is oh great. We'll be hitting a week of celibacy now.
I tip-toed around the house last night. You have to walk through our bedroom to get to our office and every time I opened the bedroom door, he'd sort of moan at me and keep on sleeping.
When I crawled into bed next to my sleeping husband at 12:30 a.m., I figured I'd read for a while, and drift off to dreamland.
Then I was attacked. In a good way. Apparently, he'd had enough sleep. It was worth the wait.
After, he rolled over and said, "It was my intention to cuddle. Just so you know." Ummm. Okay. I can cuddle with the best of them. And he was right back to sleep.
And as I was lying there all I could think was, "Now I have something to blog about."
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