It's a general rule that peeps tend to divulge too much on their blog, so let me preempt this slice of world wide web by saying - if you want to get TMI to a minimum - go 'way now and protect your peepers. Those of you brave enough to stay - well - lemmie just say "sorry"!!!
So, as you all may have guessed, Harry was gone a long time. Seven days. Seven LONG days where I went through a LOT of batteries in my personally operated female hygienic device for want of the dearly semi-departed husband. And since I tend to be a bit more, um, how shall I put this? Amped, yes, I'm a bit more amped for carnal lovins than the normal married-for-five-years wife should be I'm afraid that I may have broken Harry along the way.
Since I'm not much for "love-making" or romance or any of the other stuff that girls sometimes claim to need just because it can be rather hard for some to switch from our internal "to do" list for the house to the internal "to do" list for the significant other. Me, on the other hand, I can go from 0-60 in five seconds, from Park to Drive in a matter of moments, so it's no wonder that my poor over-sexed hubby is now sitting in the other room, bashing out a Guitar Hero version of a Metallica song and missing every other note.
I mean, after all, he's probably scared to death that I'm going to beat down the door to the man cave and attack him like sex-starved woman at a Romance novel convention.
Hmm.. Which now that I'm postulating about that - seems like a pretty darn good idea!
Toodles! hee hee hee hee