Bed's stripped, child is bathed and couple has returned to bed. Is it bad that the...being...continued as if nothing had interrupted? I can't decide if
Thursday, June 11, 2009
What Do You Think?
Let's say, hypothetically, that a married couple had retired for the night and is the process of...well...being a married couple. The being is interrupted by a certain preschooler who's dinner has made a reappearance. All over her bed. And her person. (Um yeah, you double sheetin' haters? Neener-neener.)
Bed's stripped, child is bathed and couple has returned to bed. Is it bad that the...being...continued as if nothing had interrupted? I can't decide ifwe they are really bad parents or really great spouses. Hypothetically, of course.
Bed's stripped, child is bathed and couple has returned to bed. Is it bad that the...being...continued as if nothing had interrupted? I can't decide if
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Welcome to My World
It's a crazy one. Here's the guide.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
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11 comments:
You guys are AWESOME spouses! Thats the way life works when you have kids.. pick up the pieces and keep on Being..
I LOVE it when you overshare... :)
IN THEORY, of course.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Heck - if they didn't resume, all couples would only have 1 child.
LOVE IT!! You go!
errr... thanks for sharing. now get that picture out of my head!!!
;)
*Really* great spouses! Hypothetically, of course.
Are you trying to make another night barfer? Then you guys are awesome!
I am (hypothetically) jealous! I would (hypothetically) have to start over from the beginning, and then I'd (hypothetically) imagine I still smelled the disappearing-reappearing dinner somewhere and then shower and then start over *again* and... Yeah, I would definitely say you guys were Rock Stars. (Hypothetically, of course.)
I say go for it, puke or no puke. We would.
Especially now that I'm pregnant. I tell ya, when I'm not huddled over the toilet bowl, waiting to see if I'm going to barf or not, I can't keep my hands off my husband. Sexy, I know.
There. How's THAT for oversharing?
As with all other areas of Life after Children, the only way you'll get stuff done is to deal with the interruptions and pick up where you left off.
My two cents. In theory.
Um, I don't handle vomit well at all. That would be enough to set my stomach wrong all night and it would be coitus interruptus for us I'm afraid.
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