Monday night after the kids went to bed, we finished up our nightly tasks, watched our Monday night TV shows, and counted coffee beans.
Note to self - if hubby ever comes home with a big jar of coffee beans and says, "These are for a guess-how-many-beans-are-in-the-jar game, and I get to count them," do NOT offer to help. Coffee beans are small, and it took 9,806 to fill that jar. It will take far too long to count them and will leave your hands smelling like coffee oil, which will remind you of the days when you used to smoke and your hand smelled like cigarettes all the time. Not cool.
Anywhoo, we went to bed around midnight. We were both in the bathroom getting ready for bed when Drew started to fuss. Since Marty was closest to the door, I asked him to go settle him. I could hear him talking to Drew, which I thought was odd. If you are going to settle a baby down, you don't talk to him. That only gets him riled up and not sleeping!
I left the bathroom and came into our bedroom just in time to see my darling baby Drew, who should have been sound asleep or close to it, flying through the air and coming down into his Daddy's waiting hands.
Are. You. Freaking. Kidding. Me?!?!
"Were you actually throwing him up in the air at midnight when you were supposed to be settling him down to sleep?" I asked, incredulously, hoping there was some other explanation than "my husband is an idiot."
There stood Marty, with a happy/guilty look on his face, "But I did it with love!"
Got it. He's an idiot. Check.
I looked at him in disbelief. "Seriously, talking to you is like talking to a monkey sometimes. And not those cool circus monkeys that can actually learn tricks. You are more like... like..."
Still grinning, Marty ended my sentence for me. "I'm like a monkey that throws poo?"
Then he took darling baby Drew's hand, and made a scooping and throwing motion at me. Thanks a bunch.
I know this will be a shock to everyone, but Drew was wide awake and wanting to play until 1:45 in the morning. While my darling, poo-throwing-monkey of a husband slept soundly, I worked at trying to settle him the right way and get him to sleep, all the time wondering why I was the one having to fix Marty's screw-up. I must have had "sucker" written across my forehead.
But he has been warned. Next time, I am taking my pillow to the couch and leaving the two monkeys to work it out between them.