you owe me a massage

a week ago, my husband, the man i love, the man i adore and have promised to spend the rest of my life with, the man who brings home the bacon, that man of mine promised me a massage.  yes.  a massage.

he then asked if i would accept a rain check because he was so tired.  i agreed.

lets backtrack a moment in our five year relationship.  thomas, on numerous occasions, too numerous to count, we'll use the term "infinite" here, has promised an infinite amount of massages and frequently does not follow through.  he follows through on everything else -- and then some.  but not on the massage.

so here i sit.  in my purple chair.  yes it is purple and i love it.  it is 7.47 and my husband who even admitted this evening over dinner that he owed me a massage -- his terms, owed -- is asleep on the couch.  what do you think the chances of me getting a massage are?