We had a party on Sunday – unusual for us because of two things: We have very few couples as friends who share the same work cycles as we do. We’re not 9-5, Mon-Fri kinda people. Oh sure, I’m easy (like you had any doubts…) I work out of my home office, so I can do pretty much what I want. Hubby can’t though; he works long hours 4 days a week and has 3 days off – Sun-Tues. Not great for attending events/parties, and worse for throwing one people can actually come to! Oh, and two: to be really honest, our friends are of such vastly different interests that we can’t throw a party for a large group that would
get along mesh well. So we tend to get together with one set at a time, and forget about parties.
This one was different though – it was a pool party, on one of the hottest days of the year, and it was a whole new group of people! In fact, it was more play date for Wee One than it was for us, but because I really like all the moms and dads of Wee One’s best friends, I wanted to introduce them to the Hubby.
It was great, and everyone had a fantastic time. Hubby made his world-famous burgers, which were devoured in short order. Everyone spent the entire day in the water because it was so hot, and by the end we had a bunch of pruny, water-logged, happy people, and exhausted kids. Great day :)
That isn’t the story though, as fun as it was. It was only the precursor to the real fun. Fun in bed kind of fun. Oh yeah.
That evening as we were cleaning up around the pool and pool house and putting things away, the Hubby noticed that there were a bunch of half-empty Mike’s Hard Lemonade bottles in the pool house fridge. I really should have enlisted someone as a bartender so people wouldn’t just keep opening bottles and pouring half of them. Next time. Anyway, not being the “wasteful” type, he decided to – you guessed it – drink them himself. I suspect there was close to the equivalent of 4 full bottles consumed in the space of about 10 minutes. The hubby? Not a big drinker, and definitely not of anything with “hard” in the name. Still, he seemed fine when he came in. Looked at me fairly straight in the forehead, too. Announced he was in need of a shower, and disappeared. It was 9pm.
I noticed about half an hour later that he hadn’t come back out after his shower, but figured he was watching some sort of sports thing on the TV in the bedroom and again went back to what I was doing.
Around 10:30 I heard my book calling my name, and figured I’d go to bed really early and read. And there he was, passed out on the bed. Mostly naked. Head where my knees usually rest. Hrm… problem.
I sat on the bed beside his head and said his name. I got soft snoring as an answer.
Touched his nose. “zzzzz” he said.
Gave his shoulder a gentle caress.
Gave his shoulder a slightly less gentle caress.
‘Ah ha! I know!‘ I thought to myself. ‘I’ll stick my finger in his belly button!‘ And I did.
Now, if anyone even thought of touching MY belly button, I’d have not only been wide awake regardless of my intoxication level, but they’d be wondering how I got my hands around their throat so quickly.
I shook my finger a little bit. I got slightly harder snoring in response.
Incredulous, I started shaking my finger like there was an egg in there that needed beating. By this point the bed was shaking and I was giggling so hard the dog started to bark in consternation. Hubby finally opened his eyes – ok, one eye – and the snoring stopped. He (possibly) realized he was blocking me from getting into bed, and managed to move over to his side and find his pillow. Didn’t ask why I was laughing, and I suspect he wasn’t actually aware of anything and was moving on auto-pilot. The snoring resumed within seconds.
Am I a lucky girl or what??
Monday morning I caught him rubbing his belly, and muttering “Wow, what could I have done to my belly button?? It’s killing me!”