The men will probably love the lack of female intervention for 48 hours. They can burp, fart and parade around in their skivvies all they want. They can skip showering, too. Just so long as they are cleaned up when I come home
I know I can use the time to get out of the blahs I've been feeling. I can't wait to show her all the shitty pictures I took with her camera, so she'll be cheered by the vindication, woohoo. Maybe I should do some NFNS like preparations and bring her my marinade and spice blends.
If only teleportation really existed...