Yes, It Happened Exactly Like This....

On Monday, K texted me to say, “I plan to work late at home after dinner.” And I was like, “Urghh!” (except I didn’t text that back, I just said “ok” which is what I always say when I don’t like something)
Several things happen when, “late working at home after dinner” occurs including the following:
1. Said work not beginning until after 10 p.m. due to various and sundry distractions
2. Me, lying down for a nice snoozearama knowing that I will be interrupted at say, oh, 1 or 2 a.m. by loose change thrown on the nightstand and Uncle Loud Shoes.
Uncle Loud Shoes tromps upstairs, bada-bing, bada-boom, stepping on every squeaky tread, sometimes twice for emphasis. Trompy, tromp, tromp, up the stairs, “oh, oopsie, I forgot something downstairs,” tromp de tromp, tromp, back down again. Now, squeaky stair tread, squeaky stair tread, trompy, tromp, tromp, right back up again. “Hmmm, I should probably go into all the kids rooms and make sure everyone is ok.” Tramp, tramp, tramp, stompy, stomp, stomp. Open door loudly, close door loudly- times 3. “Ok, all is well on this floor,” so back down again stompy, stomp stomp.
“Now into my bedroom” tromp, tromp, tromp “so I can open the closet door sixty-five times. Oh, that was awesome! Now, to the bathroom, to drop something heavy, like say, the hairdryer,” bang, “ then I'll sit on the bed to take my socks off. Hey, what about a few more closet door open and shut combinations just for kicks?" squeak, squawk "Extra awesome!”
"Now a little cover fluffing,” fluffy de dee, fluffy de da, “and I’m settling in for a long siesta.”
“Hmmm, I wonder why fire and brimstone are shooting out of my dear wifey’s eyes? Oh, well, she probably just has PMS.” nighty nite, sqeaky mcsqueaky, bedie, squeak squeak
Now you see why I dislike “late working at home nights.” Laters