Let's catch up!It's been a few days since my last post, so I need to remember all of the random and silly things that have happened. Friday night was the university's holiday (in other words, Christmas) party in Richmond. I drove so the husband could use our adult beverage tickets. I have learned to tolerate those people without liquor, so I thought I would do him a favor. He was thankful! The boss was really shit-faced! He even asked the husband for a ride back to the hotel. The husband told him that we drove the truck and we didn't have room. Whew! I did not want to be the drunkmobile driver! We got back to the hotel and decided we would hit a bar or two, so I could "get my drink on" since we were walking from the hotel. I hadn't had so much as one drink in months, so I was ready to have a margarita or five! We started at Sine, a little Irish pub we had been to once when we lived in the city. We got there and it was for a crowd younger than us. Okay, I'm 26 and he's 31, but after being married for five years, you're too old for environments like this one. We each had a drink there, then decided to move on up the street. We then went to Richmond Brewing Co. It was much quieter and for an "older" crowd. I had a fish sandwich and a screwdriver, and the husband had some chicken and beer. Yum! It was almost midnight, and I was seriously pooped! I couldn't stop yawning. My 26-year-old self was tired of this bar-hopping thing. Okay, a company Christmas party and two bars - someone like me can call this bar-hopping. It's just not my thing.
We woke up to the sound of the housekeeping lady banging on our door. Ummm...it's 8am, and checkout time is noon. Why in the hell would you beat on our door like that? We didn't answer it, but I was so mad I couldn't go back to sleep. There was also a child out in the hall running and screaming. I realize that we're not the responsible type that have children (yet another reason why coming up soon...), but parent-type people need to respect our decision to act like we're 21 again one night each year, and keep their child-monster quiet between the hours of 8-11am!
We woke up and got around so we could visit one of our favorite places in the area...Cracker Barrel! If you can believe it, the city we live in now does not have a Cracker Barrel. The closest one is actually over an hour away. We filled up and left awfully happy! We had to stop by the police supply store for some flashlight batteries for the husband. I don't mind going there, because they have guns and such, and the redneck in me really comes out in stores like that. It's like having a date at Bass Pro - sometimes, it just seems right. Next, we drove through our old neighborhood to see our old house. It's still as cute as ever. The people that bought it from us still have the welcome plaque at the front door and the ugly tree is still in the front yard. That poor tree had been through a bad hurricane, and it looked like a big wishbone. Then, we went to Ukrop's, our most favoritist grocery store ever!
FUNNY STORY ALERT!!! If you're easily offended, stop reading now. We finished our shopping, and the husband started feeling the effects of Cracker Barrel. He and his body are firm believers in "Out with the old, in with the new." He said he was going to the restroom while I checked out. He was in there for a while (no surprise), and he come out with a big grin. This could have meant many things. Here's what went through my mind: a) no toilet paper; b) toilet clogged; c) someone walked in and laughed and/or puked. I was wrong! He said that he was in there, doing is business and minding his own. There was only one stall, and he was in it. He also mentioned a 1-inch crack in the door. He said he heard the bathroom door open and then he saw a 2-foot person (I'm guessing this was an estimate) come and peek in the stall door. The little boy said, "I gotta go potty." The husband covered his frank and beans and just looked down, ignoring the boy. (I don't know why) The boy paced for a moment, then went back to the stall door and said it again, "I gotta go potty." The husband continued to ignore him. (I still don't know why) So, the little boy paced, then went through the routine one more time, but this time louder and more serious, "I GOTTA GO POTTY!" The husband still ignoring him. (I STILL DON'T KNOW WHY) So, he heard the door to the outside open, and a motherly voice say, "Are you ready to go home?" and a little boy's voice screaming and crying, saying, "NO! I GOTTA GO POTTY!" So, the husband is expecting to walk out of the bathroom with everyone pointing and whispering, "psssst...psssst... he's the one from the bathroom stall..." or a mother waiting outside to kick his ass. If you know my husband, you would understand. He's the kindest, sweetest person ever. He wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings or make a child cry, but he had enough of being interrupted in the bathroom, and this poor child had to deal with the consequences. I do it to him all the time. While he's on the throne, I'll say "Hey! What do you want for dinner?" or "Hey! Did you get the mail?" or "Hey! Are you almost done?" I had pushed him over the limit, and this poor child was being punished for it. The husband could have said, "Just a minute" or something, but he didn't. He played dead...on the toilet. I have a feeling this is why we don't have children yet. Each little event like this moves our names back to the bottom of the stork's delivery list, like pushing Sonic's red order button again - it moves you back to the end each time you press it. We're both going to try to do better!
Labels: funny husband, poop/farts, work
