I know what I said, that I was going on sabbatical until after BlogHer. But people, sometimes things happen that must be blogged about. Despite whomever it may embarrass, there are times when a story must be told.
This…is one of those very times.
Once upon a time. Um, ok, last night if you want specifics. Approximately 11 pm. I’m not going to go into too much detail per my husband. But, we were, you know, about to ahemn (I promised not to get too graphic. That will be saved for the other site!)
Yes. Ahem. We wanted to AHEM.
So, I went to go check on all the brats. Just to make sure that we would be undisturbed during the aheming.
One was snoring soundly with his cat resting peacefully on his head.
One was asleep with his eyes open. He asked me to turn off his lights, which I did. And he started snoring. Well fine, not snoring snoring. I meant figuratively.
The last one.
Because there were only three home last night.
The curly haired she-devil that some lovingly call Curly-Sue. I call her the Princess Bitch, said with love and motherly devotion, of course.
I stuck my head into her room to find that SHE was wide awake and on her computer. Her phone. Skyping, iChatting, Facebooking and manuvering whatever other electronic device she has hidden in her room.
Go to bed, I scream
I’m not tired, she smiles.
I don’t care, I announce.
I’m not going to bed, she smirks.
I turn out her light and shut her door. Just to prove a point. To a 13 year old. Yeah, right.
She opens her door and turns back on her light, promising me she’d go to bed in 15 minutes.
So, I say. 15 minutes? You promise?
Yeah, she says.
So, I slink back into my room and let my husband know that aheming can commence in T minus 15 minutes or however that stuff is t minused.
We flip through the channels, watching TV like the A.D.D folks we are. A few minutes here, a few seconds there.
We gaze at the clock.
We flip more channels.
I go on my iPad to see what’s up on Twitter.
We give the 15 minutes an extra 5 or so.
It seems quiet, I say.
We turn the lights out.
I ask my husband if, perhaps he thinks we should shut the door.
No, he tells me. They are all sleeping. Besides, you’re busy.
A few minutes later, clothes off and butt in air…
Grab the blanket, quick, my husband whispers loudly into my ear.
I wrap the blanket around us. Why, I ask.
Get. Out. NOW!!! I say, rather loudly.
Is Luna in here? She asks about our dog.
I DON’T GIVE A RAT’S TUCHAS. GET. OUT. NOW!! I say, a little louder. OK, I’m yelling at her.
Mom, gawd, you don’t have to get all pissy, she says. I just wanted to pet the dog.
She leaves and bounces off back to her bedroom. Probably to go onto all the various chat places to tell her friends she saw her parents aheming.
Well, I say to my husband.
Well, he says to me. Carry on.
So I do. But…
From now on, for aheming to commence, doors are OBVIOUSLY going to have to be locked because it’s bad enough the dogs and a couple of cats like to sit around and watch, I don’t need my child doing the same.
The funny thing is, this morning…she didn’t say a word. Although, I’m pretty sure her entire following on Facebook knows what went down last night.