Back to the NORMAL weekend ROUTINE here at the Playground

Friday:
I went jogging (outside not on my treadmill).

Saturday:
Following the sage advice posted in every restaurant restroom from the East Coast to the Left Coast after I visited the Comfort Room, I started to wash my hands.

(However there is nothing shocking here folks. I have been following this routine since I was younger than my own imps. No, it was right around this time that I truly found myself facing the differences between how men and women think.)

I found that we were out of liquid soap. I would have utilized the bar soap in the shower but wife.imp was in the midst of preparing to use said facilities and I did not want to 'get in her way'. So I assessed the situation and determined that exiting the would be preferable to holding up her morning ablutions. Instead, I decided to venture into the kitchen to wash my hands. (see a problem fix a problem)

wife.imp: where are you going? the soap dispenser is full.
me: it is? i thought it was empty
wife.imp: it was but I filled it up earlier this morning...you weren't going to wash your hands because it was empty, were you?
me: uhmm
wife.imp: didn't you think to fill it up? (she then pats me on the shoulder and ushers me out of the room -after I had finished washing- as if to say 'you poor deluded fool! on what street corner would you be living if we were not married -- she saw a problem and married him. She is still in the process of fixing said problem...)

Saturday Afternoon:
I tried to walk up stairs and found out how difficult that little exercise is when you have no stability in your thighs.
Approx. 5 minutes later I found out how much more difficult that maneuver is going down.

I learned to hate my house as every activity (except sitting on the sofa watching football) meant going either up or down the stairs!

wife.imp reiterated how much she 'dislikes' the current length of my burnished, copper locks!

Sunday:
I and the imps spent the afternoon at my parent's house because wife.imp attended the bridal shower of my sister. Much fun was had. Men do not bother asking...your wives might actually tell you (when women play games with their undergarments and you are not involved...do you really need the details?)

My mom and wife.imp came home and discussed (while standing next to me) how great my sister's hair looked. the color of her dress and how mom is sewing on beads, something about other women's clothing...blah blah blah mom: ...so would anybody care for a cup of coffee?
me: (jumping to my feet and almost overturning my chair) I do! Anything to escape the cloud of estrogen that is currently draining the testosterone from my body...
mom: (grumbles something I did not quite catch)
wife.imp: (laughs) reiterates how much she 'dislikes' the current length of my burnished, copper locks!

Sunday night: On the way home, I pop in a cd from one of my books on tape. within minutes girl.imp falls asleep, wife.imp falls asleep. boy.imp sings songs to himself.

a few minutes later:
boy.imp: mommy? ... mommy?? ... MOMMY? MOMMY?
me: mommy is asleep right now.
boy.imp: mommy? are you asleep? mommy? MOMMY?
me: Yes! mommy is asleep?
boy.imp: 'g.imp'? 'g.imp'? daddy, is g.imp asleep?
me: yes, g.imp is asleep.
boy.imp: daddy? can I go to sleep now?