Bumming Around

My husband just came home and said a friend from Austin called and invited him to come down for the  UT game this weekend. He told me, "That sounded pretty cool, but then I thought..." (and here's where he just started floating in a boat down Shit Creek without a paddle) "...nah, I think I'll just want to be boring bum around the house all weekend like we always do." (and then the boat capsizes)

My response was less than stellar. "Bum around the house like you always do? If you want to go then I'm okay with that, but know that you will be leaving a normal wife and returning to a crazy person. Please don't think I look forward to weekends because I miss having the freaking lawn mowed!"

With Cortland hanging on Alan's back while he's juggling a baby and I'm making supper, "See that? See this thing you're doing right now? That's the 'bumming around' we do!"

"So I don't care if you go. Truly, you deserve some time off, but I better get some acknowledgment that your going will turn me into a crazy person by Sunday, and not just because I got 'bored' 'bumming around!'"

I think jewelry would help.