I really did start with great intentions. Maybe it was my timing that was off. What intelligent mother decides to start a “project” right when the kids are starting summer vacation? Perhaps if the project were something sensible like perfecting my farmers tan, beating the Guinness World Record for number of screaming kids in your house at one time, getting my tubes tied, something of that ilk… then, perhaps I could manage. But writing a blog seems to not be going so well. I mean, hell, if I don’t get on here more than once a month I am going to lose all five of my followers.
Quite frankly, between assuaging my working mom’s guilt with trips to the pool, the actual 40 hours of work, and walking the dog, there is not a whole lot of time left for the blog. Okay, I really haven’t even walked the dog…..he’s actually turning into a sausage with legs. Bad, bad, woman.
And as for that man who I occasionally cross paths with in the hall, forget it. I have a more consistent relationship with the FedEx guy at work. I’m afraid the next time we actually see each other for more than 5 minutes, one of us may be in an urn on the mantel.
However, a couple months ago, it seemed that the gods were looking down on us. Like a Perfect Storm, all elements of our life had aligned perfectly and we were on our own….together…with no children. Trey was sleeping out, Jake was at a concert an hour away and neither of us had to work. Holy Shit! At that moment, we realized we needed to take action. We had stuff to do, things to talk about, a house to clean……so sex it was.
As this blog is meant to be funny ( not creepy and weird) I will not get into specifics. If specifics are what you want, this is the wrong blog for you. You may want to check out my earlier post regarding the Double D Avenger. What I will tell you is that our collective excitement was short lived. And not short lived in a “Hey let’s have a quickie” kind of way. Short lived in a ” Hey let’s just kill ourselves now” to avoid the embarrasment kind of way. It seems that my teenager decided to come home early that evening. The child who has been leading protests over the fact that he has a curfew since the time he was five thought that night would be a great night to retire early and catch up on some ZZZZ’s. REALLY???
So mid moment, my cell phone begins to vibrate on the night stand. If you are a parent you understand me when I say that if your teenager is out of the house you ALWAYS have the phone nearby and will check all calls to be sure it is not said teenager needing a ride or your local police station calling to have you pick them up. As I read the text message and my face pales, Jimmy immediately springs into action mode, clearly thinking something is wrong. And it is. Very wrong. The text says- THIS IS WHY I DO NOT EVER COME HOME EARLY. And it is my son.
Let me ask you this. What self respecting teenager texts his parents after he has come home to find them having sex???? At any age, shouldn’t the next logical action, after finding out your parents are still doing that sort of thing be to run from the house and gouge your eardrums out with sharp sticks? Not my son. No sir. He’s gonna call us out on it. And like any good parent we are going to lie. What can we say? Checking each other for ticks? Nope, too noisy. Rehearsing for my next role in community theater? No again, not an actress. Wrestling. Yes. That’s it. We were wrestling. That is our reply.
We wait for a response. Giggling and whispering like little kids. And then it comes……… HA HA HA I AM GOING TO THROW UP NOW. You know what? So am I.
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