Most evenings after dinner we settle in the downstairs den. Parking ourselves in front of the TV screen - with me on the couch and S in the recliner.
For the last few months he's been playing Poker on one of those MySpace apps whenever he has a free moment.
As you can see he takes it very seriously.
He doesn't like to be interrupted when he's playing, but he makes an exception for American Idol.
Not that he has a choice when I may have been irritating him.
Me: "Poker Player"
This may have been after he told me I wasn't allowed to have candy after 7 o'clock anymore. And it just may have been a reaction to my impersonation of Paula Abdul, and her seal-like clapping hands.
Or it may have been just after I saw a commercial for Fringe and commented that I should use hulu.com to catch up on it so that I could watch the new season.
He may have rolled his eyes at me.
When AI was recapping and getting ready to go off S started up the steps to bed this conversation may have took place.
Me: "But I can't sing to you if you're upstairs."
S: "I know."
TMM this one is for you.