Oh golly, I'm glad the holidays are over! Not that I begrudge celebrating the day that blessed this world with my Rovey, of course. (For those of you not in the know, his birthday is December 25th - just like Jesus!) It's just that there's barely enough time to schlep to the Sam's Club to stock up on Wet-Naps and dijonnaise, wax the hovercraft, take Rovey's kitty to her Feldenkrais session, and bake festive holiday gherkin bread, let alone get any of my special Pudding Time with Rovey.
And it's not like I'm the only busy one. What with all the hours in the prosthetics chair, the daily trips to Burlington (Rovey's volunteering as an intern on the Howard Dean campaign. Isn't that sweet? He's even doing it under a different name so as not to be a credit hog!), teaching his boss to read, and all the hours over at DARPA working on the PatrioTester™, Rovey barely has time to cram down his mid-morning Wheatena, let alone cramming anything anywhere else it might be needed.
So, it sure was a stroke of luck when a catalog misaddressed to a "G. Stephanopoulos" showed up at Rovey's work, and we were introduced to the wonders of the Electro-Thong! Rovey had one of the NASA boys tinker with the remote's frequency and rig it up so that now any time Rovey trips the switch by scratching south of his Bible Belt, I get a buzzy little bat all flapping in my belfry! And it certainly doesn't hurt that for days at a time, Rovey gets too busy to swap into fresh skivvies. So he itches, and I get the twitches in my britches!
Ain't technology grand?