The television in our bedroom is on the brink of death, which is the equivalent to the apocalypse for Jamie.
Me? I’ve never ever had a television in my bedroom and certainly didn’t ask for one. But then I married a man who loves to mindlessly watch it after his looong work days and is convinced he needs it to lull him into la la land.
So, I’ve compromised. I’ve learned to fall asleep with that silly thing blaring but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I was actually kinda looking forward to its death so I would have at least a few days of sweet, TV-less slumber.
But noooooooo.
The other night (while the old TV was still functioning), he announced that he and Bode were going “for a boy’s night out shopping.”
I was immediately suspicious, primarily because they don’t shop.
Bode, though technically a dude, is first and foremost a mama’s boy and spilled the beans. “Daddy is taking me to buy a new TV,” he whispered.
I should not have been surprised. I knew their little trip was either:
1) A surprise for me
or
2) He was up to no good.
You’d better believe his next shopping trip will be the former.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 