My husband has been working really hard lately. He spends his days working about ten hours at our business and then he heads over to the building that we bought---and are moving our business to this summer, and works another five hours or so doing renovations.
I was hoping that Memorial Day weekend would give him a little respite from such a tiresome schedule but, no dice. I barely saw him at all because he was helping the air conditioning guy, the electrician, and various others who were knee deep in construction projects at the new building.
On Saturday night, after working about twelve hours, he finally got home and HE WAS POOPED. I asked him if he wanted me to order some takeout so he could just shower and crash on the couch after dinner, but he said, "You know what I'd really like to do, Sal? I'd like to go down to the pub at the Stone House Club and have a nice relaxing meal and a glass of wine. Is that OK with you?"
"Are you kidding me?" I responded. "I thought we were staying home, eating pizza, and watching a Netflix movie! Whoo hoo! That's TOTALLY FINE with me!"
So, off we went to the pub....Hubs, tired as all hell...and me, happy as a freakin clam.
When we got to the pub, we were seated at a cute little rustic table. There was a pretty candle flickering on it and a lovely antique mirror mounted on the wall near us that reflected the candle beautifully. It was all very romantic.
After reading the menu, Hubby asked, "Would you share the cheese platter with me? It looks really good." Feeling bad about how hard he worked all day and how tired he was, I replied, "Sure, buddy. Whatever you want is fine."
After a few moments passed, the waitress brought us our drinks and our cheese and we began discussing our day. I told him what I did that day. And he told me all about the renovations, the contractors, and the crap that he tirelessly endured all day long.
And then suddenly, he was quiet.
He ate his cheese and drank his wine and he was oddly quiet.
As I was sitting there, I thought to myself, "Poor guy. He's so exhausted."
I let a few moments pass, and I noticed that he was pondering something...he was seriously in deep thought about something...
Finally, I asked, "You're so quiet. Whatcha thinking about?"
I swear, I was TOTALLY thinking that his mind was still on work because that's how he is. He ALWAYS brings work home with him. So, I was fully expecting his answer to be something technical about an electrical system or something. Or, maybe even philosophical like, "Life is too short to work this hard. I should really stop to smell the roses more."
He looked me square in the eyes and said *WAIT FOR IT*
He said, "I was just thinking that you have really great boobs."
Um. Alrighty then...
Clearly some men are never too tired to be PERVS.