The weather here was beautiful and spirits were high. It was 23C and full-on sunny which was amazing after the 18cms of snow we got on Monday. Saturday was busy... a birthday party next door for Elliott, a successful car juggling for Scott and me as we did groceries and ballet and a shopping trip for the abovementioned bday do. It was perfect. I was looking forward to a staff meeting/party that night and drove off that evening feeling jubilant.
It was about midnight and Scott was still up watching SNL. He was grumpy and sullen and when I tried telling him about how fun the evening was he grunted one syllable answers. What the hell? What happened when I was out? I asked if the kids misbehaved, he said no. I asked if he was mad at me for something he said no. After poking and prodding for about 10 minutes he snapped something about missing me all week long and said I had "issues". Exqueeze me? Baking powder? Then he pouted that he didn't want to talk about it and went to bed. WTF?
The next day he was fine again. I worked at the Y, he and the kids did a political photo op with the environment minister for Earth Day, Scott took his motorcycle up to the Gatineau Hills, I made chicken wings for dinner, we ate outside and told awful "knock knock" jokes and laughed our asses off over dinner. The jokes mostly involved the word "poo". In other words, another normal day. His hormone spike of the previous night was neither mentioned nor referenced. So very strange.
So don't tell me men don't experience the same kind of hormonal rollercoaster we do. After living with this man for 17 years, I know different.