Our evenings in Kansas are usually spent playing Mexican Train Dominos.
Oh, and I am not complaining.
I will mess you up in a game of Dominos. I’ll get all up in your grill. I’ll take you to the boneyard.
I have yet to beat Mike’s grandmother — which is suspicious, because she’s always the scorekeeper — but I’m not accusing anyone of anything… necessarily.
… and after several rounds/hours of dominos, (I lost to grandma, but beat Mike by the last hand) we retreat to our bedroom for an episode or two of Psych or How It’s Made on Netflix before bed.
Also, I have to wear pajamas, which hasn’t happened since 1996. It’s like someone is trying to strangle me in my sleep. Or maybe Mike is actually strangling me. I’m too tired to really check. Stupid daylight savings.