From Bad to Worse

So, the other night my wife and I had an upstairs date. Yes, not very romantic or spontaneous, but with an almost 8 y.o. and her work schedule, it's the way things go more often than not. After dinner she worked for a little then we chatted while having a couple of glasses of wine. She talked about her frustrations with work and got some things off of her chest then we went upstairs. Then, while we are in flagrante delicto, she began crying. Sure, those 45 seconds of pure pleasure from my 3.5" pole can do that, but this was different.

The floodgates were open about everything that was bugging her. I don't have a problem talking about those things, though I wasn't appreciative of the timing. So, among other things, we decided (again) that we don't spend enough time together. The next day I lined up our babysitter and made a reservation at a very cool restaurant for St. Paddy's night.

Saturday comes and the three of us have a fun day. Then, at about 6pm (the babysitter was coming at 7) the plumbing backs up. WTF? We use a warranty service for this kind of thing, so we put a call into them. While we are waiting to hear back, it becomes apparent that my wife is very uncomfortable with having the babysitter handle this (the restaurant is about 45 minutes away). There go the reservations at the cool place. So, we head to a neighborhood Italian place that has pretty good food, though uneven service. We get a quite table. Or, should I say what was initially a quiet table as a group of four was seated near us. They weren't LOUD, but enough of a distraction that there was no way that we were going to talk about the stuff we wanted to. We get a call from the plumber right after we finished our main courses, paid the bill and headed home. Very dissatisfying. I don't know when we're going to get back to her issues, but I hope that it's soon.

In hoops news, none of the top seeds have been eliminated, so my bracket is in OK shape. And Tennessee is off to the Sweet 16. Woot!