That thumping is thumping

Last weekend I headed into Vancouver to enjoy the festivities of Easter. A weekend of Church, chocolate and re-confirming the results of my 1st annual cinnamon bun tour; All I can say is that their was much rejoicing... (some of it happened at Church too).

But Easter can wait! I heard the little voices on my shoulder say. At lunch I had surreptitiously loaded the kids up with chocolate, known full well they were staying at their grandparents place that evening. Payback time! I thought, Our turn to wind them up and leave!

With the kids staying at their grandparents I mentally readied for a monumental night of partying out on the town. After a great dinner out somewhere on famed Robson Street I headed to bed to sleep, or so I thought. Unfortunately my sleep was nowhere near the childless tranquility I had envisioned - I was constantly jolted awake from the incessant noise of a party downstairs from us. Crying, sootherless wails had been replaced that evening with thumping music and laughter interspersed with screams of joy, all echoing up into the courtyard. I finally dozed off around 1am, sleeping lightly as I subconsiously tossed and turned to the thumping beat. Around 3am my wife came into the room.

"You asleep?" she whispered.

"Mmmmn...what time is it?" I croaked, keeping my eyes closed but sticking my head out from underneath the multitude of pillows.

"Three eighteen...we've been up chatting." she replied, referring to Sandritia, our host for the evening. "You get any sleep?"

"Not really, the thumping music is too loud."

As if on cue Sandritia stuck her head in "Nope, that's not music...that on and off thumping is...well..thumping, if you get my drift?"

"Until 3am? It's been going on since 10pm!" I'm not sure if I was jealous or upset they kept me from my slumber.

"Maybe we should go down and join the party?" one of the girls suggested. I'm pretty sure it wasn't my wife...but I was in a dazed and dreamy state.

"Mmmm, only 50/50 chance it's actually thumping." I noted, sitting up and straining to hear the sounds more clearly.

"Well, those are still pretty good odds!" my wife quipped, turning to our host.

"You're right, I'll go get the ice-cream and some spoons to go!" our host quickly replied, the words trailing her into the kitchen.