Warning: this is a TMI post. Pretend it’s somebody else, it might make it easier to read.

It’s not quite a curse. More like somebody is having fun at my our expense.

I haven’t told you about last week’s date, the night we got a (gasp!) hotel room. I haven’t been able to think about it without laughing long enough to write about it. So that’ll have to wait.

But lemme tell you about this weekend:

Friday night I get home from work, thinking the kids would go to gymnastics and we could have a little “alone time”. No, my son hops out of the car and says “you’ve got mail!” and hands me a little scroll of parchment. He had written me a letter saying that he wanted to go to Mega Fun Pizza Place (check yes or no). Now how can I resist that? So we did Pizza.

Saturday I decided I was a stud and mowed the lawn. Now I did not have to go to the ER or anything, but it did take several hours to recouperate.

Then Saturday night the kids lobby to go to a play place — this means we will, finally, have our Alone Time. Yes!

(you’re wondering what Peter Sellers has to do with this? It’s coming)

We drop them off. We go get some tex-mex. We have margaritas. We go home. We are pulling down the sheets on the bed and the phone rings.

That’s never a good sign, but since the kids are playing elsewhere I answer it. It’s a friend, a neighbor, who has somehow attracted a stray dog to their house, and their dogs are going nuts, and could we please keep it until Monday when animal control comes back from vacation and can come get it? (yes. really.)

No problem! Only, the handoff takes about an hour (this is an hour of white hot monkey lovin’ time, people) and of course our dogs take to the new visitor about like Elmer Fudd takes to Bugs. Ahem.

We get everyone settled down, we finish pulling the sheets off the bed and AHA! We get some Alone Time. This was all well and good (okay, very good) until I decide as part of my delusion that she might actually enjoy a little surprise I purchased from the good people at Freddy and Eddy’s (NSFW).
I have it on good authority (well, if you can count bloggers as a good authority) that this thing is fantastic and earth shattering and might replace me in the bedroom, but I’m a caring sort of guy so I took the chance and, well, the results were not quite what I expected.

Nobody mentioned that it sounds just like one of our Power Ranger toys. Not one of our toys, but one that lives in our house, and so of course we both would laugh uncontrollably at the sound it would make (kind of a whirring / marching sorta thing) and it never really fulfilled it’s potential. Sigh. We were just laughing too hard to even put it to use.

Okay, Peter Sellers may not have been in charge, but certainly he would have approved of the uncontrolled laughter when we were supposed to be all lovey dovey or at least moanin’. I’m just sayin’