So Sunday was supposed to be my day of drunken debauchery. Kinda, actually what I did have was a day long drill with the firefighters where there was two separate drinking parties scheduled. Usually these parties after a day long event see us at a local snack or hostess club. For those who don't know, the idea is a place to go and drink overly expensive and watered drinks while singing karaoke, munching on snack foods, and flirting outrageously with the girls who are there to make guys happy.
Now before this raises eyebrows, let me clarify, no, we're not talking about THAT kind of happiness (At least not at the ones we normally go to), instead, ala Teahouse of the August Moon, these are girls who normally pour drinks, light cigarettes, sing, and fluff our egos to rather silly heights via flirting and putting up with us in general.
Or in my case, I go to drink, get drunk enough to inflict my singing on people, and listen while the girls tell me my Japanese is sooooo great because I said yes to them and then proclaim their ignorance of English and either attempt to get a free English lesson off of me or find ways of avoiding me because the concept of having to speak English scares them. This is probably why Beloved has no fears that I would ever run away with a bar hostess.
Any case, to pay the piper however, we DID have a drill and one that required me to get to the firehouse on Sunday at 7:30 in the morning with temps hovering just above freezing. So I did get up early, dressed in my uniform, and was just heading downstairs to sneak out of the house when I found Beloved and the kids up at 10 till 7. A bit odd, but then I had forgotten Thomas. Still, not a bad thing, right? I mean, Daddy gets to say goodbye because he probably won't be home till late.
That's when I noticed Beloved had this... interesting expression on her face. Pain, lots of it. It seems she had managed to pull a muscle in her neck. Enough that even twisting slightly caused enough agony to start her crying.
That's actually how I knew she wasn't faking it. Beloved doesn't normally cry. It takes a lot to get her going, but seeing actual tears...
So what's a husband to do but call off his day with the boys and spend the day with his boys?
Which is what I did of course. Instead of drill and drinking, it was coloring pictures with my sons and watching a Scooby-Doo movie while dealing with the household chores to keep Beloved from straining her neck too much.
Of course, the odd thing was that her neck was well enough to go out winter clothes shopping for herself and the boys while I took care of them either at the store or at the house. Maybe I should check for a bottle of fake tears?