Brad and I had planned on some playtime in the bedroom last night. The problem was that our kids went to bed late and our oldest was taking his time in going to sleep. While we were waiting we were watching tv. I was gearing myself up mentally, trying to get into the mood. He was laying on the couch starting to fall asleep. When we finally had no children awake I looked at him realized to was half way out. I asked him if he still wanted to do anything, know full well he was going to say it was too late and he was too tired. And that was his answer.
I decided to go back to bed myself and I was a little disappointed, but on the plus side I could now go and finish watching The Mentalist. I got all snuggled into my bed, it was the perfect temperature under my covers and I was so comfortable and was started to drift off myself. Ten minutes Brad walks in, looking fully alert, and turns to lock the door. I groaned because now I was going to be uprooted out of my perfectly comfortable bed. He gave me some sort of evil little smile that said – “you know I can make you get out bed, don’t even fight it”. I didn’t bother and of course we ended up having a good time. It’s just that I’m starting to get whiplash….. this happens more than you would think.