In the doghouse.

I was a bit of a late arrival to the world of relationships, but I figured after being married for a few years that I'd be over making newbie mistakes. Not so! I'm happy to report that I still know how to make an ass of myself with Jessica.

A couple of nights ago, Jessica and I shared a bottle of wine, and she started hassling me about having had a bit too much to drink. I told her it was perfectly normal to wax poetic about the fragrance of my socks, and stormed off to the bedroom in the middle of an episode of Inspector Lynley. To make my displeasure clear, I (audibly) locked the bedroom door.

I figured I'd wait for a few minutes, and Jessica would come back to talk. I'd give her some grief, open the door, and we'd have a good chuckle.

I heard Jessica come back, but it was only to the bathroom. She promptly went right back out to the TV.

Unbeknownst to me, she figured I'd come back out there to apologize for storming off. I was lying there, wondering why she hadn't come back to apologize, and started thinking that I was really feeling quite pleasantly tired... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

About an hour later, I'm awakened by a pounding on the door. Now Jessica is really mad. Not only did I not come out to apologize for storming off and (childishly) locking the door, but I actually had the nerve to FALL ASLEEP with her locked out of the bedroom.

It took a bit of wholehearted groveling to get back in her good graces, and a promise not to do it again. Oh yeah, and a promise to write about it, so all would know my foolishness. So, there you go.

1 comment:

  1. Tee hee hee! I don't mean to laugh, but, well...DUDE.

    For what it's worth, I like the addition of your voice to the ol' blog-o-rino. Turns out, we're all just fumbling around out here. If we could just share the notes...