[WARNING!! This post contains a bedroom scene and may not be appropriate for our more sensitive readers.]
My wife and I were getting ready for bed last night, with the normal, everyday bedtime banter.
<Insert normal bedtime banter here. (Ok, to be honest I don’t remember much of the conversation.)>
She had beat me to bed and was pulling down the covers and slipping in the bed while talking to me. I was standing across the room getting ready to brush my teeth.
“Hon, don’t forget you have that…Gasp! <insert startled gasp here>…tsk….Those little stinkers!”
“What?” I turn around to see what is going on.
With a slightly amused, and somewhat annoyed look, she holds up a plastic snake by the tail.
“Where did that come from?” I asked, knowing the answer within 50% probability.
(Feeling around the bed for more.) “Well, they didn’t get you.”
Although too tired to do anything right then, I was already planning my retribution. You can’t just walk around being afraid of your own bed. Something must be done….