Sunday, 16 May 2010

Bedtime at Jones Towers

(A little background - TLH has been away for a few days, visiting relatives in his native homeland.  While he has been absent, I have gone to bed early, late, whenever I wanted.  I have lain in the middle of the bed in starfish formation and revelled in the silence.  He returned home earlier than expected last night.  He has also lately become obsessed with playing Mafia Wars on Facebook.  I make no comment on this as I introduced him to it in the first place).

Me: It's half-past midnight.  I'm tired and am going to bed.  Are you coming?

TLH: Err, if I stay up for another 20 minutes or so I can travel to Paris and click the button three times.

Me: rolls eyes.

I go to bed. TLH comes too.

We lay, waiting for Sylvester to come and put us to bed (his nightly chore), discussing events of the day.  Sylvester comes to tuck us in, then flops his great hairy bulk down between us and starts to snore his catty snore.  His reverie is, however, disturbed by TLH suddenly leaping out of bed just as I'm about to turn off the light.

Me: What are you doing?

TLH (running downstairs): Nothing.

Me:  Oh good grief! You've gone to fetch your laptop, haven't you?

TLH returns clutching his iPhone, from which he can access his Facebook profile and, hence, Mafia Wars.

Me:  God, I was just about to turn off the light! Harrumph.  How much longer do you have to wait?

TLH: Oh, about 10 minutes or so.

Me:  Well, okay.  To pass the time I suppose you could check out the IMDB messageboard for 'Bottom', especially the threads on 'Bottom phrases you use in real life' and 'Unseen character names'.

TLH: Yeah! And while I'm reading that, I could play some gentle, soothing ambient music (fires up iTunes).

Which is how I found myself last night, at 1am, lying in bed being shaken awake by TLH's laughter as he read out such fantastic names as "Ted Unlucky "Suicide" McGloomy" and ""Dodgy" Bob McMayday, the most violent travel agent in the world" while being serenaded by the calming sounds of  Led Zeppelin's 'Rock 'n Roll':



TLH managed to get to Paris, you'll no doubt be pleased to hear, and click the relevant button three times.  He then turned the light off, rolled over and started farting.

Welcome home, darling.  It's good to have you back - the place just isn't quite the same without you....

7 comments:

pinklea said...

Ah, men. As the saying goes, can't live with them, can't kill them. I guess we just have to put up with them and their quirks. (And I don't suppose it ever occurred to TLH that he could have gone into another room to avoid disturbing your slumber??)

Mrs Jones said...

Pinklea - Shhh, don't tell anyone, but I secretly like it really.

Mrs Jones said...

Um, not the farting, of course....

Kella said...

LOL you have a way of telling stories that if I was drinking milk it would come squirting out my nose. :)

Mrs Jones said...

Kella - then my work here is done...

Claire said...

You always manage to make me smile if not a good belly laugh.
My OH is computer mad unfortunately not into Facebook or any games, but many's the night he comes to bed after midnight and as he gets into bed he hoiks up the doona letting in a rush of cold air.

Gotta love em, who else is going to stack the woodshed now that winter is on it's way?

Mrs Jones said...

Claire - I had to Google 'doona'. I am now educated in the ways of Australian duvet nomenclature. While I'm here, can you tell me why your countrymen call a set of bathroom towels and other household linen 'Manchester'? That IS what they call them, isn't it?