Stealing time with my husband has become just that- stealing. I feel like we're the teenagers trying to desperately to neck on the couch without getting caught. The kids are old enough now to stay up as late as we do, and with the computer and the PS2 in the same room the loveseat is... not as advertised.
We've smooched in the kitchen, but again, with two teens the kitchen is constantly under attack. "Get a room!" they cry. We reply that, technically, ALL the rooms are our rooms, but it doesn't seem to get us anywhere.
The shower might seem an interesting solution, no? I mean, saving water is all environmentally friendly and I'm all for that. When it benefits me. But we have reached the age, or girth, where the contortions required are an iffy prospect at best, especially terrifying when slippery.
So why not the bedroom, you ask? Seems like the perfect place, and there's a lock on the door. Simple:
SHE OWNS THE BED. If we toss her off, she'll wait until she thinks we're not paying attention and then she'll sneak back up again. One cold nose in a sensitive area is enough to throw off the groove.
If we lock her out, she whines and howls and scratches at the door. Easy enough to ignore if you're dedicated, but the lovely teenagers are now smart enough to know what's going on when the dog's banished to the hall, and they giggle. And giggle. And that? Buzzkill, folks. Major.
We seriously need a nice hotel room.
ETA: Anyone want to have some fun? Writtenwyrdd is having a contest to celebrate her 2nd blogiversary! Go over and check it out.
9 comments:
You need to take control, Girlfriend! Tell the teens, "Your father and I are going to watch an old movie and make out in the living room. We might even do the Nasty. If you don't want to throw up, read a book in your own room." They may act grossed-out and complain, but deep down and later on they'll be proud that their parents still got lovey-dovey when other parents got divorced. And they'll know how nurture their own marriages.
;)
Well, if I had a spare hunk of change, I'd buy you a nice weekend away. (Right after I bought myself one with my sale-rack billionaire, of course...)
Kimber, I'm going to tell my kiddos "Daddy and I are doing da nasty" just to see what they do!
Thank you, Beth. One with room service, please.
NOthing like how teens squirm at the mere thought that their parents "do it", that they "did it" to conceive said teens' precious selves, and that they "are doing it" right now and the kids know it from whatever evidence to hand.
I can recall one time overhearing it, and pulling the pillow over my head, horrified. ;)
"We seriously need a nice hotel room."
The locals here call that having "a dirty weekend."
We have a motel in my tiny burg (5000 people more or less) they refer to as the "no tell motel" where people hook up for nooners. I imagine you two could have a fun date where he pretended to pick you up at a bar, or vice versa.
Written, Bernita, you've inspired me! I may just have to pretend to have car trouble and have him pick me up or something...
Now what to wear...
I suspect you should wear your overcoat and either nothing or something skimpy like a bra, garter and stockings.
By the way, would you mind mentioning that I'm having a contest in honor of my 2nd blogaversary?
http://writtenwyrdd.typepad.com/writtenwyrdd/2008/08/2-year-bloggave.html#comments
Not at all! Editing now.
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