Almost everyday there’s an on-going battle in our house. He comes to me first, and then I to him, back and forth. We keep mentioning the fact that so-and-so needs to get done first or my son is still awake.
It's even worse if we say anything at work. Have I ever mentioned we work together? Like in the same building, on the same floor. It's torture some days but great others. Especially when you need to bitch about someone and you know he's not going to say anything because our livelihood is on our jobs.
ANYWHOO But it always ends the same, I fall asleep with Darrell in bed relentlessly trying to get him asleep.
Why does our sex life die with children? The hiding in the bathroom or the subtle glances at the dinner table, it always ends the same. The day long adventure of a good tease. Seriously, I think that I could be great at those sex-talk hotlines but never go through with anything. My excuse would be “Sorry, I‘ve got to be up by 9am to watch Team Umnizoomi”. Complete turn off huh?
Kinda strange to try to explain those long distance calls too.
And the fact that I look forward to a children's show in the morning.
Scratch that. Completely.
I’ve been told by many of men that I’m a MILF, I look at them straight in the face and ask are you kidding because you’re making me ROLF. My son killed my body, or whatever was left of one. Never skinny, never toned, never perfect. Carrying 9 lbs of pure baby and adding in the whopper a day I didn’t have a graceful pregnancy.
So, I’m pretty sure now that he’s just keeping me on my toes, not wanting to see the elephant that emerges in bed.
Because, c’mon, who else will do the dishes?