I may have to declare a boycott on Schweppes Ginger Ale.

Yesterday morning I arose early to get a head start with my children in order to have them ready for school, and give my wife an opportunity to sleep in a while longer. When she awoke to find that the kids were dressed, lunches were made and the girls even had their hair brushed with finely tuned ponytails, she gave me kisses and offered me a look as though it was going to be a great day. Obviously I began thinking about how I needed to maintain the current level of affection throughout the day so that we’d possibly have a great evening together. I automatically began scheming- come home early, help with laundry and also put the kids to bed early in order to allow us for some alone time. In any case I put the kids on the bus and headed to work.

My day;  I worked my butt off to get everything done and achieve the best results possible to leave early before the “bell”, knowing that all might be marvelous in the world tonight. The planets were aligning.

My wife’s day; Cleaned the house, put the kids’ crap away, went to the gym and a job interview, raced the kids around to soccer practices after school, prepped dinner and continued with other crappy household duties. No eclipse here.

When I left the office I sent my wife a text asking if she needed anything, and she requested a Ginger Ale…..She loves her nightly Schweppes Ginger Ale. “Of course”, I texted her back, remaining fully obliged for you know what and hurried along. I arrived home, and as I exited the car I could already hear the kids screaming and acting nutty followed by my wife’s loud reprimands. “Ok”, I had said to myself, this is not going to be a “you know what blocker”.  As I stepped through the kitchen door I could already see that she was flustered, but not to a point of no return. “Stay the course” I had told myself. Then she had asked “where’s my Ginger Ale honey?!”. “Ohhhh Shit!!” I cursed to myself and before officially answering she’d already observed that I had forgotten to pick one up. “I asked for one little thing and you…….” she blurted on. Yep, it was safe to say I had doomed myself in a fit of rushing to get home for some lovin’. That was the icing on the cake for a hectic day in the life of my wife. Now once again it was safe to say, “no sex for Daddy”, and I feel like killing Mr. Schweppes…