Last night, the husband approached me with a sheepish, innocent sort of look that made me know instantly that something was up.
He wants to do a boys' night out.
In our house.
The Husband: We'll stay in the living room and the kitchen, and we promise not to break anything (like they did last time), and we'll clean up, and we'll just stay up all night playing poker and video games, and you can just pretend like we're not there, and you don't mind, do you?
Me: *martyr-like sigh*
I'm not going to tell him that I'm thrilled to have the chance to have a reason to lock myself in my room all night long and not venture out. The guys wouldn't care if I came out--heck, they'd probably offer me a hand in poker--but I'm cackling and tapping my fingers like an evil over-lord with the thought of a full night of writing, by myself, with no disturbances (unless I hear the sound of breaking glass...again).
I'm so not telling the husband that.
After all, if I act pitiful enough, I'll probably get dinner and movie out this, too. ;)