Saturday, January 28, 2006

And thank you ma'am

"...AaaaaAAAAh, BABY! My heart is full of love and desire for you

Now come on down and do what you gotta do (what you gotta do!)

You started this fi-yah down in my soul (down in my soul!)

Now can't you see it's burning out of control (Out of control!) ..."

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating the joy after sex a bit -- it's more like, FINALLY! It's hard to get too wound up when most of my energy was spent on aligning the stars. I had showered, shaved, scented, put on easy to remove clothing --I was commando and good to go. The hope I had been suppressing started to grow when I saw that both children had actually fallen asleep as planned.

And there it is -- the word "planned". I know there are several cliches revolving around the idea of not getting too attached to plans, but when you have young children, the idea of plans coming together takes on new heights in psychological punishment.

Here is a good place to point out another golden rule of planning/parenting; Never vocalize what you are about to do. We didn't even get a chance to motion toward the breeding ground when there was the knock on the door (I had really begun to believe we were going to get away with it that easy). "Mom, I don't feel so good." Those words are among the top ten reasons why there isn't enough sex going on in the lives of people who are married with small children.

No time to run for a puke bucket on that one. She did make it to the linoleum of the bathroom floor, and all the way to the toilet for the final waves of puking -- in the world of puke, I consider this a victory.

The other victory was that it was just a bad meal and not an -- up all night puking -- virus. After clean up and half an episode of Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Kids, we were able to resume with our plans.

Sexy story, I know. I have a bunch more just like it. I could write a column for Playboy -- I'll call it My sexy sex life.


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