Yesterday was Funday, not Sunday.
Willy Dunne Wooters and I awoke early, as always, and went to church. *snort* We attended the contemporary service and then stayed for the traditional service. *double snort*
All this snorting means we stayed in bed, as we always do. That's where what Willy Dunne Wooters said would happen actually done happened. Remember the post when WDW (always makes me think of WMD, Weapons of Mass Destruction) said that we can't get down on the floor for some fun because we wouldn't be able to get back up? I know. TMI. You can read the post HERE if you missed it or can't remember it, though I don't know how you could forget the ick factor of sex amongst the elderly.
Anyway, we were in bed, and afterwards, I got cold. I couldn't pull up the flannel sheet and the blanket because Willy Dunne Wooters has this special talent for getting his rump on top of them when we play Twister in bed. Here I am, freezing to death in Florida, wearing my birthday suit, and I can't have any covers.
Roll over, I told WDW. He did. It's wasn't enough.
Farther, I told WDW. Still couldn't get those covers out from under his cute little butt.
I NEED COVERS, I told WDW. He rolled even farther, and rolled right out of the bed and onto the floor.
I had the good grace to ask him if he was hurt before I started laughing. He was fine, so we laughed like the maniacs we are; but Willy Dunne Wooters couldn't get up. "His" side of the bed is close to a wall. He was boxed in between the wall and the bed, and it took him forever to crawl backwards enough so he could turn and grab the bed and pull himself back up. While he was fooling around on the floor, I pulled up the covers.
We had another adventure late in the afternoon on Funday, but I'm going to tell you about it some other day when I can't think of a post. Yeah. Like I never have something to say.
|Willy Dunne Wooters in church yesterday.|
Infinities of love,