Boys will be boys, but middle aged men shouldn't be …

Surprisingly, Grumpy was home quite early last night.10pm

Even more surprisingly, he didn’t interrupt my movie. Well, not for long anyway.

I heard a noise, and thought it was a “not tired” Monkey Boy hopping out of bed to play lego and trains.

I thought this, because the front door wasn’t opening. And it was earlier than I had expected for Grumpy to be coming home.

The play got louder, which was unusual, even for Monkey Boy.

Five minutes later, some sort of drunken mammoth enters the house and stomps down the hall.

I realise, then, that its not a mammoth, just Grumpy, who maneouvers his way down the 3 stairs in the middle of the hall and drunkenly mumbles “I’m going to bed” (and quite surprisingly, not “you kids wanna watch a DVD?”)

So I got to watch my movie in peace, even if I didn’t get a great sleep.

Asked him how his day went yesterday. Commented on his drunkeness when he arrived home. Received the standard “I wasn’t drunk.”

“No, of course you weren’t. Just I was mistaken as you took 5 minutes to open the door, went straight to bed and snored really really loudly all night. Sorry about the misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, well, at least I didn’t vomit on the table during dinner.”

From this point, all line of questioning relating to the GP ceased, and I made a chocolate cake for dinner that night.

(Well not dinner, per se, but to take to dinner at a friends house – although, chocolate cake for dinner is tempting).

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