So, this week has been insane for HUBS and I. Due to construction at the school he works for, he now has ONE FREAKIN WEEK to do THREE WEEKS WORTH of work. This have driven HUBS to severe fits of construction-man anger over the past month. And, because I am a lovely human being who didn't want to see her husband go insane, I offered to help.
On Monday we worked 13 and 1/2 hours (with meal breaks, of course). I was riotously exhausted that night but couldn't, for some reason go to sleep when I hit the bed. HUBS was pumped from getting a good start on all the work and tried to get me to sleep. Turning off the tv, turning on the tv, turning the tv volume down. At one point he put it on a Berenstain Bears cartoon on PBS and, apparently, I finally drifted right off after hours of torturous non-sleep.
Then, about an hour later, I got a poke in the shoulder from HUBS. He had something to tell me. I looked at him.
HUBS: (grinning wildly from ear to ear, eyes wide open and pointing downward as he lay in the bed staring at me) WHO'S GOT BALLS??!!
citygirl: (looking at the HUBS crotch, seeing nothing out of the ordinary) What?
HUBS: WHO'S GOTTT BAAAALLLLLS?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!! (maniacal giggling)
I didn't say another word. In fact, all I did was turn over and go back to sleep. But I remember thinking "This is how stress fucks with you? Really? God dammit!"
Let me tell you, internet, the next morning was quite interesting. HUBS had to take me out to breakfast for that one...
