Your spouse is out of town and you’ve had the kid all day and after you’ve read about 107 books of awkward rhyming syntax, you fiiiiiiinally get him to bed so you go take a nice bubble bath with visions of HGTV dancing in your head and then you put on your favorite ratty tee-shirt and jump into bed as excited as can be to have the !kiss*REMOTE*kiss! all to yourself and then as you are fluffing the pillows the remote falls to the floor and slides clear under the nightstand and because you are basically lazy, you try to just lean out of bed and snag the remote off the floor but as you do you lose your balance and with your flailing leg you knock over the lamp on the nightstand which falls to the floor and breaks the light bulb and so there you are in the dark on your belly amid the shards of a busted light bulb groping around for the remote and you feel something fuzzy and so you involuntarily scream and as you do, you bash your head on the underside of the nightstand and then you realize it was just a harmless dust bunny, so you keep groping until you find the wayward remote and as you are working to stand upright, you are slightly amused at all the wasted groping, and as you are rubbing the emerging bump on the back of your head with one hand, the other hand, the one that is holding the remote? That hand you bump on the bed post as you turn to get back in bed which sends it flying into the bathroom onto the tile floor where it busts open and all the batteries fall out and so then you say screw it and go to bed in the dark.
Don’t you just hate when that happens? Yeah. Me too.