Displaced. Again.

What the hell???? It's like musical beds up here at Casa de Christie. No, no.....nothing like that......ewwwww. Gross. Goobie don't roll like that. Somehow Jack's sleepover was transfered to MY bed. So there are two ten-year old's and a very, very large poop-eating puppy where I'm supposed to be. And there is an aging rock star in Jack's bed. Don't get too excited. I'm married to him. Yawn. He rolled in at 2 a.m. and found his designated sleeping area to be occupied and headed down the hall. And as the Christmas crap is all over the guest room bed, I'm displaced. Bedless, really. Screw homelessness......bedlessness is the real scourge gripping the nation. Or at least gripping MY house. This whole thing with the husband getting home in the middle of the night is pretty f'd up, if you want my opinion. He's too old for this shit. So am I. Should have married an accountant. Although then he'd be all up in my financial bid-ness. Can't have that. And a lawyer would probably be suing my ass all the time. Although he could also get me out of jail......huh. Might have to think about that one. That could actually come in handy. But I digress.......going to go curl up under a table or something. Or find a refrigerator box.