EverAfterLand

An Ode to Summer

First off, I should probably apologize for my lack of communication the past few months.

But it was SUMMER! And things just get squirrely when it comes to summer!

Normally, I feel a bit guilty when I've neglected my blog for this long. Regretting that I did not "buckle down" and "get to work."

Not this time! I have ZERO regrets this time around. Why? Because every second of our summer was spent having fun! If summer was an orange, we twisted up that rind until we had squeezed out every last drop of juice, gulped it down so fast we wound up chugging the seeds along with it, and then licked the glass until every speck of sticky sweetness was gone.

In the history of every summer vacation we have ever had, this one ranks at the top of the list. In fact, when they came up with the word "epic" it was THIS summer vacation they were referring to.

It had everything...

Adventure....

Drama.....

Romance....

But mostly Adventure!

And lots and lots of family and friends!

This is the vacation that all other vacations will be held up to in comparison.

This one will be tough to beat.

But like all great novels, all great films, and all great bars of dark chocolate and tubs of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food, it had to come to an end eventually.

School is in session now. The adventure has ceased, silently returning to a routine of early morning buses, loaded down backpacks and after-school homework.

Which is good, I suppose. Just like too much orange juice, there is such a thing as too much adventuring.

Kids need stability, right?

Sti ll, I can't help but wonder - if Miss Priss is in 2nd grade, but doing coursework at a 3rd grade level, doesn't that technically mean she could skip a whole year of school and still be on track??

Hmmm, that might be something worth looking into.....

You Can't Always Get What You Want

What did I WANT to do today? 

Well, I WANTED to do the laundry.  I wanted to mindlessly fold hampers of clothes while catching up on episodes of Grimm and Castle.  I wanted to check and recheck my email, visit and comment on other blogs, work on my Twitter and FaceBook accounts. 

Sure, I had written a list that included clearing off the top of the office desk (finally!), clearing off the floor of the office/crafty room (finally!), and putting the last few items away in the playroom (finally!!!)

But those have been on my list every week for the last month or so.  They were list staples at this point.  Nothing more than Bench Warmers - they were never going to see any actual play. 

Although....

It had bothered me all week that I hadn't found time to finish off these organizational projects.   All my time had been twittered and instagrammed away.  Writing, too.  Oh, and, you know, those kids (every once in a while).  I was frustrated with myself, sure that if I could just finish off these few projects, I could reduce my stress and be free to accomplish more!

We made it through breakfast, this bright and early Sunday morning. 

And before we could even clear the dishes from the table, las luces se fue.

Er, I mean, the power went out.  (Sorry, my Spanish gets mixed up with my English sometimes!)

Oh crap!

I hoped that those luces were se fue'd for a short amount of time and would return within an hour or so. 

I tweetered and grammed and facebooked using 3G on my iPhone for a little bit.

But that was sucking up my battery, and I wasn't sure when I'd be able to recharge again.

What to do, what to do???

Somehow, I found myself upstairs in the playroom.  Before I knew it, I was piling every doll-sized comb and brush from every pony, Barbie, and Monster Chic that my girls own into a little baggie and finding a space for that baggie to live.  The little suitcases that had sat there for the last few weeks since we returned from our trip to The States were relieved of the few books and toys that remained and then whisked off to the guest room.

What was happening????

With every last bit of paper placed in the trash, the tiniest of the tiny doll shoes returned to it's mate, and anything else that didn't fit a specified category shoved into a bin, I had finally, FINALLY!, finished off that dang playroom!!!!

But what happened next was truly astonishing.

After a short break, and continuing to have power that seemed to have se fue'd for good, I found myself up in the office.

Clearing. off. the FLOOR!!!!

Halfway through that adventure, with nary a sound except the hum of my neighbors generators and the occasional car horn, I realized that I was singing this song to myself...

"I'm cleanin' up the house today, hurrah, hurrah!

I'm cleanin' up the house today, hurrah, hurrah!

I lost my mind this mornin' cause the power's been long gone

and now I'm stuck cleanin' the house to-day!"

Sometimes, you don't get the day you want.  But you do get the day you need.

The Mercado - Are We There Yet???

There is always traffic around The Mercado. 

But THIS was ridiculous! 

"I'm sure we'll move soon," my friend, Kaye, sitting in the passenger seat, said optimistically.

"No, this is different.  Usually we are at least eeking along, this is at a stand-still.  Even those guys from that bus are standing in the middle of the street."

I surmised that this had to be one of two things - either an accident or construction.

Here in Honduras, an accident can cause a back-up for an indeterminable amount of time.  The law here is that the cars involved in the accident are not permitted to move off the road until the police have inspected the automobiles and advised them to leave. 

And in this lawless land, the police showing up for a minor fender-bender will take as long as it takes!

Construction, on the other hand, tends to happen sporadically, with little thought to traffic patterns.

And it will take as long as it takes.

Not being able to see what the cause of the delay was, I took a chance and swung the car to the right, down a small street that (I hoped!) would take us alongside The Mercado.

Many had the same idea, causing a snarl in traffic there as well.  But at least we were moving, even if it was only a crawl.

No matter!  Kaye and I had a chance to slurp down our coffees and chatter non-stop on our caffeine highs!

The first side-street was as motionless as the mainstreet.  We stayed our course.

The second side-street was as backed up as a cheese tester.  We creeped past that one as well.

"Maybe this next one?"  Nope, not the next one, either.

The fourth street looked promising - until we realized it was a one-way going the opposite direction.

No dice.

Finally, we made the left-hand turn we needed.....and quickly realized that we had over-shot The Mercado.  Taking another left, we arrived at an intersection that came to a T.  The big black SUV in front of us hung a right.

I came up to the corner and paused. 

To the right, I could see the entrance of The Mercado just a scant block away.

To the left, I could see that this was the one-way street that we had passed earlier.  The one headed in the WRONG direction.

"Well, if that guy in front of us went right, then we're headed right, too!  Look at me, I'm driving like a Honduran!!!!"  Kaye and I laughed hysterically at this act of brazenness, contrary to our typically level-headed, politely prudish personalities.

Until a yellow-shirted man leaped in front of the car, waving frantically and shouting, "No pase!"

I slammed on the brakes.  Kaye and I looked at each other, looked back at the man, and in unison, pointed to the previous offender and yelled, "But he just did it!!!!!" in English that we knew this man could not hear through our rolled up windows, let alone understand.

But the pointing was enough.  He got the gist of our frustration, a fight for equality with the mentality of toddlers in a temper tantrum.

I rolled down the window, and Kaye was able to converse with the Gatekeeper.

This is a one-way (well, yes, we know that), we have to turn around and go back.  You can park here, or go down the hill and take another street over.  There's cops monitoring this area right now.  

Why all the traffic? 

Construction. 

After a lot of manuevering, we were finally, legally, driving past The Mercado and could see what sort of "construction" they had been up to.

The entire street that we would normally be driving on was surrounded by a shiny make-shift aluminum wall, large equipment working tirelessly behind it.  The one lane that they had crafted for the regular traffic to use came from the space that is normally our parking lot.

Where the heck were we going to park?

As we inched along, we saw it - a nice big space on the side of the road, blocked off with cones. 

I started to pull in, driving two tires up onto the sidewalk, mirroring the car parked in front of us. 

A man in an orange reflector vest informed us that we were doing it all wrong.

My window went down once again.  More Spanish.  The car was successfully parked farther onto the sidewalk, leaving a narrow sliver of a space for Kaye to make her exit through.

Two more inches, and she would've had to make her escape through the trunk.

Finally, we were inside The Mercado, which was running as if none of the madness existed just outside its walls.

And yes, as we learned inside, they did begin that construction just that morning - on the first of the two days that The Mercado is open.

Why would they choose to change the traffic pattern when they know that traffic is heaviest on at the end of the week?

Because - This Is HONDURAS!!!!

 

A Little Bit Giddy...

The Elvis Duran Radio Show told me my day would rank as a 10 (the best you can get) when they scrolled through the horoscopes this morning.

Boy, oh boy, they weren't kidding! 

All day long I have received many positive comments and several FaceBook shares of my Mother's Day post from yesterday.  And all of that is reflected in the stats on my blog, which is showing a record number of pageviews in one day (at least for me, anyway!)

My day is way more than a 10.  It's like a 10 bigillion-zillion!

And it's all thanks to my tremendous friends and family and all of their wonderfully kind words!!

But here's the kicker of having a post that garners me so much positive attention...

What am I supposed to write now???

If you recall, I'm still in the throws of the 31-Day Blogging Challenge (Day 12, actually, not even half-way through!)

Posts like yesterday's are tough for me.  It's difficult to put myself in a place of such vulnerability, always worried that what I see as deep or spiritual, others will see as corny or just plain wrong....and then tell me so.  Such an incident has never occurred (thank goodness), which is why I think I've become more confident about writing these sorts of meatier posts. 

So, OK, I get the post written and put it out there for all the world to see, and get some good feedback from friends and family, and here's what usually happens next....

Nothing.

When I write something that is meaningful to me, I find it difficult to switch gears and knock out some other post that can't be at the same caliber as that last one.

Let's face it, I can't write these types of posts all the time for always.  I am just not that deep!

Which is why, normally, I would head for the hills.  Like a seller of snake oil, I'd pack up all my things into a beat-up old suitcase and high-tail it outta here before anyone would have a chance to discover that my Elixir of Life was just sugar water and dye.

OK, that's maybe a touch melodramatic (I may not be deep, but I've got imagination!)  The point I'm getting at (wait, there was a point?) is that, in the past, a post like yesterday's would have left me struck dumb, probably for a week or more, scared speechless that whatever I posted on this blog next would be such an enormous let-down to anyone who came back to read more.

Which is why I SO needed this challenge!  My type of "writer's block" never had to do with a lack of words to put on paper...er, computer screen.  The thing that has held me back from being a writer - a REAL writer - was plain, old-fashioned fear.  Fear of failure.  Fear of success.  Fear of failing after a success.  You name it, I've been scared of it.

Part of this challenge was to conquer, once and for all, these silly little fears.  Pack them up in that old, beat-up suitcase and throw them in a river.

So, that's it.  The "Day-After" post is complete, and I'm still standing!  My fears may not be completely dissipated, but I definitely took a big chunk out of 'em.

But just in case, I'd better take a spoonful of that snake oil, you know, for good measure.

Second Mornings - The Only Obvious Solution

I really don't think it's too much to ask.

All I need are two mornings. 

Every day, I need a way to have my morning, and then go back and relive my morning again. 

That can't be hard to do, right?

OK, I suppose I had better explain....

There are two things that I am pretty intently focused on right now (aside from slaving away for my husband and children, of course!)  Those two things are A) working out and B) writing and posting for this 31-Day Challenge.

Now, the best time for me to do my workouts is first thing in the morning after the kids have left for school.  If I try to exercise at any other time of the day, I wind up not working out at all.  Either I'm too tired, too busy, or just don't care anymore.

Which means my writing is now left to be tossed about by the churning tides of my day. 

Lately, I have had to write after the girls go to bed. 

Definitely NOT my optimal time. 

Not only would I rather be planted on the couch with the Hubster, but by that time of the evening, I am suffering from a major bout of Brain Drain.

I need to write in the mornings.  I need that first-morning time when my brain is fresh and new and alert and full of the possibilities of the day!

What to do?  Try to move the workouts to a different part of the day?  Try to move my day to a different part of the night?  It's not that I don't have enough hours in the day, it's that I don't have enough hours in my morning!

I can already hear some of you saying, "Why don't you try waking up before the kids and working out then?"

Well, I wake up at 5:15 am as it is to get the girls out of bed, dressed, fed, lunches packed and ready for the bus.  I don't know if I could survive waking up any earlier.

Although....

The last few weeks we have had this strange cacophony of birds right outside our window making (what can only be described as) a racket at precisely 4:30 every. single. morning.

It is rapidly driving the sanity right out of Hubster.

(If you ever see a news report about a man in Honduras strangling a bird while perched at the top of a telephone pole, just know this wouldn't have happened if we had a shotgun!)

This morning, in that first light of dawn, listening to the screeching wildlife outdoors, I actually entertained the thought.  If these damn birds are already waking me up at 4:30, maybe I should just go with it.  Maybe I should wake up and get some writing done!

Then I remembered how much I enjoy sleep.

Not just enjoy sleep - actually require it.

Trust me, you don't wanna see Mama trying to live off of 6 hours of sleep.  It ain't pretty.

I'd have to be in bed at 9:00 p.m. in order to make a schedule like that possible.

Which means passed-out-on-the-couch at 8.

So, no, I don't believe a 4:30 start to my day is the wisest move.

Meaning that adding a Second Morning is the obvious, and logical, next choice!

I'll do my workout from 7:00-8:00 a.m.

Then the clock will rewind, and I knock out an hour of writing from 7:00-8:00 a.m.

I already live in a weird Wonderland where Daylight Savings Time does not exist.  I don't think it's so far out there to believe I could make a Second Morning happen!

Right?

Right???

Game of Thrones!

These Kids!

Every weekend,

They lay siege to the Central Point of the Kingdom,

An area known as The Couch,

And make demands of Pancakes

(with chocolate chips).

The Poor King.

He has no recourse.

He is forced into hiding,

An iPad and a small television -

His only links to the Outside World -

Until the tyranny ceases.

Or The Queen banishes The Tyrants

up to their room.

Keeping The Couch all for herself.

Poor King!

One, Two, Toss My Shoe

Phone calls from the school are never good news, right?

As I went to answer my cell, tapping the screen illuminated with the name of Miss Priss' teacher, I braced myself for what might be on the other end.  It's too late for a pick-up, school's almost over.  Please don't break anything, PLEASE don't break anything....

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Hilton?"

"Yes."

"Mrs. Hilton, Prissy was throwing one of her shoes into the air and it landed on the roof of the school...," the teacher told me casually, as if hurling shoes onto rooftops was part of the daily curriculum.

"What?!?!?"

"The maintenance man is not here to retrieve it right now, so I wanted to let you know why she is coming home on the bus with only one shoe."

"Oooh.  My.  Goodness.  Please tell him that I am so, SO sorry.  I swear, she knows better than this!"

"It's alright!" the teacher responded brightly. 

Well, it was not alright by me. 

As it turned out, Priss had been wearing her brand new, light-up Skechers to school that day.  The ones she had just received as a gift from her grandparents. 

Luckily, the girls have a long bus ride home, giving me a chance to cool off a bit and collect my thoughts.

So, what was her punishment, you ask?

Well, she had to listen to a ten minute lecture entitled The Reasons We Do Not EVER Throw Our Shoes, with subtopics covering The Possible Dangers Of Shoe Throwing and You Don't Have To Follow What Everyone Else Is Doing.

She had no television for the rest of the day.

She had no sweets for the rest of the day.

And, just to make sure she understood that this did not only affect her, but also the man who had to climb up on the roof to retrieve that shoe, I made her write a Thank You card, reminding her that the recipient, most likely, only speaks Spanish.

Here is what she conjured up:

To translate, she is saying, "Thank you very much for my shoe!  You are very good at this!"

And for those of you who are wondering, "gracias" and "zapatos" are not spelled with an 's,' but still very good First Grade-esque work!

And now, for the accompanying graphic (because what card doesn't have some kind of picture on it?)

As you can see, a likeness of Miss Priss is enthusiastically watching the maintenance man climb up the ladder for her shoe.  She is saying "Thanks a lot!" along with the word "Me" and an arrow pointing to herself.  You know, in case there's any confusion as to which one is which.

The maintenance man, happily perched atop his extremely tall ladder, has the word "you" with an arrow pointing to him, and to the right is Prissy's adorable little shoe, ready to be rescued.

So this is the kind of stuff that happens around here in EverAfterLand.  We're not always perfect, but I believe we have definite strengths in Lecturing, Shoe Throwing, Card Making, and the Arts of Apology and Appreciation.

And judging by how tall that ladder is, Priss has got quite an arm!  Perhaps there's some softball in her future?

Ain't No Daylight Savin' In These Here Parts!

I can't believe it.  I mean, I really just can't believe it! 

How has it been a whole MONTH since my last post?? 

Oh, dear readers, I am horrified - HOR-RI-FIED - by my neglectfulness of you.

But, to be fair, the dozen or so readers I have out there (Hi Mom!) are also my Facebook Friends & Family.  As such, they have all been well aware that EverAfterLand was away on vacation.

Vacation!  To The Coast, no less!!  And I am very proud to report that you will be seeing all sorts of posts about the adventures we've been having lately!  (I hope you like pictures, cause there's gonna be a LOT of pictures!!!)

You know, being cooped up in a hotel for three months (no car for two), followed by another couple months of unpacking (during the holiday season, ack!) definitely begins to wear on a person's psyche.  But now here we are, with the house {mostly} unpacked, a new year laid out before us, and adventure-seeking in our veins!

It helps immensely that the U.S. Embassy, here in Honduras, has been setting up these super sweet travel plans.  All you need is a full tank of gas and then follow the caravan!

Anywhoo, in other news, the rest of you up there in the ol' Estados Unidos had to turn your clocks forward one whole hour this past weekend, in compliance with Daylight Savings Time.

Spring Forward, as they say! 

Well, except the "theys" in Arizona.  I don't know what Arizona has against Daylight Savings.  I suppose in every family dynamic, there's always one kid who insists on living against the grain.

Here in Honduras, they don't like Daylight Savings either.  I couldn't tell you why.  Maybe they like it to be dark at odd times.  Or maybe they don't like anyone to have a reason to miss church. 

Whatever the reason, we did not "spring" our clocks in any direction this past Sunday.  Rather, we leaped into a whole new Time Zone! 

We were previously situated inside the Central Time Zone.  The same time zone as most of our families in Iowa and Texas, and only an hour off from many of our friends on the East Coast.

Now, we are Mountain.

One hour behind Central and two hours behind Eastern. 

"Oh, that's great!" I can already hear you saying, "You didn't have to lose an hour of sleep!"

Well, that is one way of looking at it.  But I would have to add that you, fair reader, are missing the Big Picture.

All of our network television (ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX) comes to us (through our cable company) from South Florida.

"Why?" you ask.

How am I supposed to know?  All I know is that, through the magic of cable television and possibly some illegal use of satellites, we are able to watch North American television on our Central American TVs.

Technology is a beautiful, beautiful thing!

But now, since Daylight Savings Time, all of my programming has taken a huge step to the left. 

All you Northerners had to adjust to one morning with one hour of your life missing. 

I now have to adjust to losing the first hour of my beloved Today Show (it used to start at 6am, now it starts at 5) and having all of our prime-time programming begin at 6pm (aka: Dinner Time) instead of 7.

That may not sound like much to you, but let me tell you, the first thirty minutes of the Today Show is when they mention some of the "real" news going on in the world.  By 6am they've wound down to segments like "How To Use Your Wardrobe To Make Your Butt Look Smaller" (it doesn't), "How To Hide Vegetables So Your Kids Will Eat Them" (they won't), and "Which Celebrity Is Making An Ass-Hat Of Himself" (hint: it starts with a 'B' and ends with an 'ieber').  I tell you, I am being systematically dumbed down as I fill school lunch boxes and drag a brush through tangled bed-head!

Dumbed-down?  How much dumber can you possible get?

HEY!!

There is one plus side - Late Night Shows and Saturday Night Live now begin at the much more reasonable time of 9:30.  I mean, seriously, who out there is really able to stay up past 10pm on a weeknight (or any night, for that matter) to watch any of this "Late, Late, Later Night" stuff, anyway?  They should really go back to just shutting down the station after the last newscast is through and airing that lovely rainbow-vertically-striped screen for the rest of the night. 

Ah, the good ol' days!

See, I bet you never knew I was actually a 90-something little old lady.  I might look like I'm in my 20's (fine, 30's, happy?) but my mind will always be geriatric.  Now please sign my petition to put reruns of "Murder She Wrote" and "Perry Mason" back on the air.

Yes, I know, I know, if the worst problem in my life is that I have to change my TV watching habits, then I guess I'm not doing too bad!  I am endlessly grateful that we at least exist in the same time zones as our friends and family back in the states.  I have friends stationed in Japan who literally live in tomorrow. 

Yeah.  Think about THAT for a minute!

So I guess that is enough ranting and raving for today.  I was just posting to let ya'll know that A) I'm baaaaaaack! and B) you are now able to place phone calls to us as late as Midnight Eastern/11pm Central Standard Times. 

Actually, let's just leave it at 11pm Eastern/10pm Central, like it was before Daylight Savings.

Cause I don't want you disturbing my 9pm sofa snooze.  I have to have my couch nap so I'll have enough energy to get into bed at 10.

What?  I can't be the ONLY one who needs a Before-Bed Sofa Snooze!!!

 

 

Say Hello To My New Job Title!

I am pleased to inform you <and All the World!> that you may now *officially* refer to me as a.......

{{drumroll}}

Profesional Blogger!

That's right, I am now "Jennifer Hilton, PROFESSIONAL Blogger."

I practically sound like a Super Hero!!!

She fights crime with her blazing pen...er...keyboard, wiping out criminals with her Fingers of Justice!

So why the big change?

Well, for the first time EVER in the HISTORY of this blog I actually got PAID!!!!

I have mentioned before that I am an Amazon Affiliate.  So when you click on those blue letters in my posts that zoom you over to Amazon.com, I receive a percentage of anything that is purchased through that link. 

And what do you suppose I discovered when I zipped over to my Amazon Affiliates Account last week to score some more linkies?

Check. It. Out......

See that part in the middle that says "Total Earnings?" 

That's right, baby!  A whole buck-sixty-seven! 

Elated, I shared the good news with Hubby.

Me: I'm a Professional Blogger now!  My blog has made one dollar and sixty-seven cents!!

Hubs: That's great!  So, what does that make your hourly pay work out to?

Hubbys can be SO nonsensical sometimes.

No matter, I am now a Bonafide Professional!

Which means I'm going to need a few things.  A new computer, for starters, and then probably a secretary.....and definitely an assistant.....and I can't do proper writing in these ratty old pajamas, I need some new fancier ones - French ones, I think......

 

Monday Mania!

Monday Morning saw me bustling around as usual.  Flitting around the first floor of our house like a butterfly, I corralled wayward toys and stacked errant pieces of children's clothing, gathering the items to return to their upstairs homes.

Hubster was plopped on the couch, watching the news.  As I fluttered about, we chatted a bit over our plans for the morning - I would tackle the grocery shopping, while Hubbawubba would get in a run around the neighborhood, then joining up for a nice lunch out together.  This Martin Luther King, Jr. Day meant a Date Day for Hubs and me.  Since the Embassy observes all U.S. Holidays, he had the day off of work.  Since the girls attend a Honduran private school that only observes Honduran holidays, they had to pack their bags and get out! 

(I know, so sad for them.  We were nice about it, though.  Only sang "Nah-Nee Nah-Nee Boo Boo!" while making faces at them AFTER they had boarded the bus!)

"Come up to the office," I ordered Hubster, "I have to show you some stuff."

We headed up to the Office/Craft Room, aka: The Scourge of my Existence.  The house we are now renting, while beautiful, is a wee bit smaller than our old home had been.  And also contains half as many closets.  Trying to fit my incredibly large stash of just about every crafty thing on the market into this tight space has resembled a seemingly impossible game of Tetris. 

Hubby gasped as we walked into the room. 

"THAT'S what the floor looks like?" he declared in mock shock.

I chuckled, then pointed around the room, listing the items that still had to be dealt with.  Pictures that needed to be hung, boxes that had to be moved to other rooms, "and what are we going to do with this chair?" I asked him, referring to a single dining chair in the middle of the floor.

Later, we were back downstairs, Hubs snuggled back into his cozy couch, and me fluttering about the living room once again. 

"We need to move this rug!" I half-shouted, pointing to an area rug.  "I think it needs to be all the way under this table."

Hubster grudgingly rocked forward and onto his feet.  As we moved the four chairs away from the table, he threw in, "Did you have coffee or something?  You're just very energetic this morning."

"What?  Oh, that's because it's Monday.  I'm always like this on Monday morning, you're just not here to see it.  I have to pick up after all you savages so Mary is able to clean the house!"  I said, referring to our housekeeper.

"Humpf," Hubs replied, sending a longing look to his still-warm spot on the sofa, "we could have done all this yesterday."

"Well, I WANTED to do all this stuff over the weekend, but I couldn't.  You know, I started my period and I was too tired to get anything done.  I didn't even wanna do the laundry, but I HAD to make that happen."

"No, if you really WANTED to do something, you would have done it," was his snarky reply.

"WHAT?!??  I did WANT to do this, but I didn't have the energy...."

"Then I guess you didn't really want it, did you?"

"Listen, when YOU get a period, then we can discuss energy levels, got it?" was how I ended the conversation, this time the one wearing the snarky smile.

The table was moved, the rug shifted, and everything returned to it's place.

Including Hubster.  He was back at work, making his indentation on the couch. 

After serious inspection of the TV listings, Hubs stood up, saying, "I'm going upstairs to watch a movie on my iPad."

"What happened to your run?!?" I less-than-innocently asked.

Hubbers shot me a look, not at all appreciating my ability to point out the demise of his workout schedule.

"Awwww, did you get your period, too???"

As he stomped up the staircase to our room, an ornery "YES" echoed down the corridor.

Guess I'd better hide my chocolate.