So my epic (read: sad, but a big deal in my world) night did not go according to plan. At all. And I'm very remorseful about it, because I can never get it back!

Last night was my long-awaited viewing of the movie World War Z. I love zombies. I mean LOVE zombies. Books, shows, movies...you name it, I love it if it deals with my rotting undead or infected friends. Needless to say, all week long I've looked forward to watching the movie with my hubby once the kids were in bed. I wanted to spend my Saturday evening with Brad Pitt, the Infected, and a nice glass of wine (or three). Oh yeah, and my husband. Yeah.

It should have gone as planned. Really, it should have. But my BF called all wound up about something with her ex-husband just when we were about to start the movie. I'm a bitch. I admit it. I didn't pick up and let her leave a message.

"It's me. I know you were going to watch your movie and all, but if you get a chance, give me a call. It's important."

Well, crap. Brad and the zombies would have to wait. I mean, I'm a shitty enough friend to make her leave a message, but not shitty enough to ignore it when she's says it's important.  Turns out, it wasn't important, just weird and sad, nothing earth-shattering, and damn it, she could have waited to tell me in a day or two instead of knowingly interrupting my big night. Which she totally knew she was doing.

So once that conversation was done when I begged off (I told her I could talk for 10, told hubby 'Give me 15', but spent 22 minutes on the phone), we finally begin my beloved, long-awaited movie. The lights are dimmed, the candles lit, I'm clutching my wine glass in one hand and my pillow in the other because it's going to be scary, ya know.

I couldn't watch more than 15 f'in minutes at a time. The dog wanted out, the cat wanted in, hubby was passively aggressively suggesting that maybe I could make us a snack...but wait, there's more. Hubby was surfing online, some crap about getting his permit to carry a gun in the neighboring state of MA. That's all well and good, but can we discuss that shit NOT in the middle of my precious World War Z?

Fine. I wasn't freaking out. I was rolling with it. The movie was thus far awesome and I was way too wrapped up in wondering what would happen next to take the time to debate putting my pets, and husband, on the free section of craigslist.

The 5 yo Lil Miss starts whining from her bed. Her throat hurts, she complains. Hubby and I try every trick in the book to get her back to sleep, from a drink to a song to finally Advil. No dice. I even lie in bed with her until she's asleep again, but the little monkey springs awakes and cries the moment I shift my weight to make my escape.

Naturally we're at, like, the beginning of the end of the movie. Where it's scary and tense and edge-of-your-seat but I've got shit to do, you know. Shit I don't want to do, shit I just want to go away for another twenty minutes.

Finally, in desperation, I relent and put Lil Miss in our bed, where she promptly settles down and falls asleep immediately with a triumphant smile on her face. Damn, she's good. I finished my movie, and my snack, and lament over my lost perfect-movie-and-wine night that was so totally ruined by the rest of my life. I can never see that movie again for the first time -le sigh-.

But one good thing did come of it. Hubby was totally looking to get some, and figured we could have a good time, what with me and my wine and all. I would have been game, initially, but when I've been trying to watch a less-than-2-hr. movie since 9, and it's now after midnight, I'm worn out.

So, Lil Miss's unexpected trip to our bed was a totally welcome cock block in the end. Hubby didn't get his sex, but I didn't get my wine-and-a-movie escape as intended. So no one got what they wanted, exactly. Oh well.

I still haven't seen the movie 'Magic Mike'. Maybe I can chloroform the kids, and hubby, some future Saturday night and have my magical, uninterrupted, relaxing evening then. Because it sure as hell didn't happen last night.