I cannot fully explains my actions...
As you can probably tell by the dubious look on my face.
Tuesday is dad's "tennis fitness" night. While I like watching the ball on the telly sometimes, for some reason I cannot fathom, HE goes out at least once a week - even on sticky, muggy, hot days like today - and runs around like an idiot chasing after balls. Apparently this session is one where "difficult shots", "increased pace", and running around like an idiot are encouraged.
Yeah, sounds like heaps of fun, dad.
So last night he came home, and dumped his wet towel from the club, inside which is rolled his sweaty and stinky tennis clothes...destined for the wash. (He is a good boy, and always showers at the club before coming home. Though he's tried one of those new 'male body sprays' with the scantily clad girls in the ads - free sample from the White Stripes concert. Yuck! He better finish that before mum gets home, is all I can say.)
Umm, well, after he sat down for a fine barbeque chicken dinner to watch George Smiley, I decided this would be a good place to lie down. For a long time. Seriously.
I can offer no explanation, short of temporary insanity and delirium at the thought of shared BBQ chicken....
(Ed note: She stayed there a long time.)