And have a good time, we did. We went to a friend's house for a while and then went to a little dive bar near Deborah's house. We ran into a few of she and SK's friends from high school and drank a lot of beer and made fun of other people in the bar, as per usual when she and I get together. We talked and caught up and really, it was so nice to be out with her.
I got home about 2am, not drunk, but ready to crawl into bed next to SK. He has been coaching a soccer tournament and had another game early this morning, so I knew he had gone to bed long before I got home. I walked in, took off my heels so as not to make a ton of noise walking through the house, grabbed a glass of water, some Advil, and headed to our bedroom. I turned the doorknob, already imagining how wonderful it was going to be to get into the warm bed and fall asleep.
What the hell?
The door was locked.
WHAT THE HELL??
SK has a habit of locking the bedroom door when we go to bed. Not sure why, considering we lock the front and backdoor and activate the alarm before we go to sleep, but he does. It's a habit I have learned to live with, but it's a little annoying.
Especially when I am unable to get into my bed because of it.
Luckily, there was some clean laundry in the dryer, which meant I was able to change out of my smokey bar clothes and into some pajamas before laying down on the COUCH and falling asleep to Planet Earth on the TV.
Really? The couch? In my own house??
Thankfully, SK woke up about 3:30am and realized I wasn't in bed. He got up to look for me, to make sure I had actually made it home, and found me asleep in the living room. He woke me up and apologized profusely for locking me out.
The walk to the bedroom is a bit hazy, and I vaguely remember him climbing into bed next to me, still apologizing for locking the the door. I do, however, strongly remember rolling over, looking right at him, and telling him to SUCK IT.