I've learned my lesson

Today, I finished up work a bit early - about 5:00. This is because I had set most of the day aside for attending a series of meetings reviewing status, plans, and strategies in my area of expertise on the follow-on project to the one on which I am now working. I did this, of course, out of craven self-interest, as the place was just loaded with people I am required to suck up to.

That, plus I'd really like it if the project didn't make a gigantic mess of things and then dump it on me to clean up very late in the game. There is some history of that kind of thing happening. Though not with this exact group of people. Just with half of them. You know, the Tinfoil contingent.

Tinfoil chided me at lunch for not killing the feature that my career depends upon being a success. The one mentioned in his bio. Silly lad doesn't know he's asking me to kill the wrong thing. He should be asking me to kill ACPI P-state support, as that's the thing that screws with what he's worried about. But, like so many here in Ft. TomCollins, his understanding of such subtleties is, like his fashion sense, backwards. But I can't tell him that because my job description requires me to suck up to him.

Luckily, he reads the old blog about once a week, so mission accomplished. He'll be mad that I blamed his contingent for problems, though, as he'll say it wasn't his fault and he fought the good fight and lost, and all that. Maybe I believe him, like maybe I believe him that he wasn't the one who made fun of my truck. Especially since Rico apologized for that today.

Apparently, Rico is also a blog reader. Notsomuch an ad clicker, though.

Anyways, I finished up work around 5:00, then I yakked with El Torito for a couple minutes, then I came home. I heard HannahC playing the piano, which is in the room right behind the front porch, so I looked in the window to watch. She was playing away with her back to the window, and MaxieC and The Mrs. were in there, too. The Mrs. was facing the window, so I smiled.

She glared at me with the kind of glare you normally reserve for someone who has suggested maybe you should go run some simulations for Harry, or that your truck was noisy and slow, or that she traded your dog for a dust ruffle and matching pillow shams, or that Bush lied and people died. I was surprised by this, and I did what any husband does when his wife gives him this look.

I froze like a deer in headlights.

Then I started through the list. All you married guys know what I'm talking about. You all have a list in your head of the things that you do that cause your wife to look at you like that.

I'm not late.
It's not her birthday.
Or Valentine's Day.
Or the Week of Disappointment.
It's too early for PMS Weekend.
It's not our anniversary.
Not any of those other anniversaries we sometimes remember, like our first date.
I didn't forget to pick the kids up from anywhere.
I haven't been out drinking with the boys.
I didn't make fun of her in my blog last night.
I didn't hit on her best friend.
I didn't hit on any of her friends.
Or her sister.
Or anyone on the blog roll.
No strange woman left a comment on my blog.
Well, no strange woman other than her mother.

I don't know what it is. I'll go inside and pretend I didn't notice.

After I got my shoes and jacket off, I went to the piano room. The Mrs. snarled at me.

OK, that's going to be difficult to pretend not to notice.

She sent MaxieC to play with me. Shortly thereafter, HannahC started hollering how she wanted The Mrs. to go away and wanted Daddy instead.

The Mrs. arrived in the kitchen, took MaxieC, and sent me to deal with HannahC. I offered to get her a glass of wine.

"Grrr!"

A scotch?

"Grrrrrrr!!!"

A Yukon Jack?

"No. All alcohol makes me sick. I've stopped drinking."

Nooooooooooooooo!!!

Dear God in Heaven, The Mrs. has given up alcohol. I can't imagine a worse fate. For me.

But, at any rate, I've learned my lesson:

Don't come home from work early.