Shall I translate this little tete a tete and the rest for you?
::ahem::
Charles: So I really want to leave early because I'm more excited than the kids but my testosterone says I can't say that to you.
Me: What? I didn't think you wanted to.
Charles: My testosterone makes me lie.
Me: Are you saying you want to go on Saturday?
Charles: Would you please appeal to my Y chromosome with something like relaxation, food, TV or beer?
Me: Check in, unpack, relax, and be ready to go to DHS first thing Sunday morning.
Charles: Ok, check on the relaxation, how about some food too.
Me: We could. What did you have in mind?
Charles: Food, woman.
Me: We could eat at Boma.
Charles: Mmmmm, Boma.
Me: Yep.
Charles: I will destroy said buffet
Me: I'll call.
Me: I got a 4:40 for dinner. Now, you have to make the final decision. Do you want to go down a day early?
Charles: ::dancing like a little girl in his head, testosterone tries to hang on for dear life:: That's fine.
Me: No, you have to say, "Yes, let's do it," or "No, let's not."
Charles: ::testosterone is weakening, lip trembles, little dancing girl in head is now doing the cabbage patch:: That's fine.
Me: No, you have to say, "Let's do it," or "No, let's not."
Charles: ::testosterone completely run over by little dancing girl doing the running man:: Okay, let's do it.