In preparation for the Thanksgiving holiday, I did a bulk of the grocery shopping on Friday, as you know from my "Grocery Shopping" post.
On Saturday, we all went to BJ's as a family and got our usual $200 of bulk. Then I had to run back to the grocery store to pick up some items for dinner along with whatever else we had forgotten. Hubby asked me to also run into the liquor store to pick up 2 bags of ice. I informed him that I ALREADY BOUGHT the ice at the grocery store the day before. His response? "Yeah, but I don't like that kind of ice." WHAT??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It's frigging ice!! Are there really different kinds? And how the hell can you tell??
So later that night, Hubby is relaxing in the living room, sitting on the couch, legs outstretched, watching college football and enjoying his cocktail with the "right" kind of ice. The 3 boyz are zooming around like wild banshees, climbing up on Hubby's straightened legs as he uses the coffee table as a footrest and are hurtling themselves off onto a pillow on the floor. I'm observing all this, biting my tongue ferociously because I notice that Hubby's only worry is that his drink doesn't get spilled. Nevermind the potential head injuries, brain damage, or broken bones that could arise. At one point he yelled out, "All right!" so I was thinking that he was going to tell the boyz to settle down. Nope. It was "All right....they're going to go for it on fourth down!" So finally he comes to his senses and gets aggravated when Middle falls on top of Baby and yells for all 3 of them to knock it off. No more jumping from his legs. Someone is going to get hurt. I couldn't stand it any longer. I said, "Umm.., all you would have to do is put your legs down, you know."