Plight of the Horny Parent

I've watched him all day. 

I've watched him doing yard work, sweat dripping, muscles glistening, looking like an early dessert. Yum. I've watched him play with our girls as they laughed delightfully and he beamed with Daddy pride. What a man. What a great father.

He's so sexy. 

Do you still have those naughty days with your sig other? The kind of days when you're sneaking in "come hither" stares? What about the groping you have to play off as accidental body contact? You know, because God forbid, mommy and daddy ever touch? 

All day he's teased me with sexual gestures that I've had no way of reciprocating. Why?! Because little eyes and ears are wide open and ready to intercept at all times. Kids never take their eyes off of the mama! He knows this and has made his manliness a force to be reckoned with. I just can't take it anymore!

I want him now.
But wait... There's that familiar sound. There it goes again. 
"MOM, MA, MOMMY, MUM, MAMA!"

Bitch-slapped back into reality, I have to take my eyes off of him and tune in to the REAL happenings of the moment; The happenings that are true responsibility. And while I love the happenings, I have other things I'd rather be tending to. Fun things. Yum things. 

You understand don't ya?!

We love each other and when we're not threatening to strangle one another, we are a match made somewhere that makes the good stuff! But no matter how much we want to entangle limbs and explore our bodily universes, we are parents. And duty always kicks our asses calls! Our youngest still sleeps with us. She's as clingy as a magnet to a fridge when it comes to bedtime. She holds the title for "cock-blocking." Have you ever heard that phrase? By all means, let me explain. 

According to Wikipedia:

" A cockblock is a slang term for an intentional, or sometimes unintentional action that serves to prevent someone from having sexual intercourse with a partner. Such behavior is often motivated by jealousy, or competitiveness, although it is sometimes accidental, or inadvertent."

The word "intentional" is on point and really caught my attention because I'm convinced our cubs are out to get us.  It's a damn conspiracy. All of it. Down to the poop-filled diapers and euphoria inducing baby powder.

Even after getting our task-masters tucked and warm in bed, we have dishes, and laundry, and lunches, and a load of other motherloadin' crap to do! Added to that list is the hunt for spills and sticky stuff (usually found by accident). And right now chocolate is on e-ve-ry-thing! WHY do I do this to myself?! I never should have given the girls chocolate because it's.... 

Wait a sec... 

Chocolate on everything?! Sounds awesome in an adult, play out my fantasies, kinky kind of way! Umm hmm.

(Disclaimer: If that offends you, GET OVER IT and join the fun. The End.)

I'm gonna put this chocolate to good use later! Probably much later! If we're not snoring. Where's that cockblocker intervention team when you need it?!

The plight of the horny parent. It's the (unwanted) gift that keeps on giving. Maybe we'll get everything done like the soldiers we think we are. Maybe cubs will be in bed early. Maybe we'll realize we're delusional. Maybe none of this will happen. Only time, exhaustion levels, and pheromone power will tell.

I'm determined to show off my sexy tonight. We're gonna "get jiggy with it" if I have to conjure my own Mrs. Doubtfire to play the hero. But first, the preparation:

1. Grab the weed-wacker for my lady parts. It's the Amazon and Congo combined 'round here and I'm going in!

2. Detangle the Afro so I can get a bit of hair-pulling action. "Black Power" is in those curls atop my head and it's on high defense. Anything that goes in is not coming out!

3. Upgrade to a Code Red safe-word for the night. Snap, crackle, and pop in the middle of a position change is no longer a good thing. Bending over to tie my shoe laces sometimes sounds like a bowl of Rice Crispies in milk. If any of those sounds are heard, "Get the f*ck up now!" is not too far behind!

4. Completely shave legs and underarms. No surprise shin-hawks, dreads, or razor-sharp pricklies found lingering this time.

If I can pull this off, the night will be magical. It will be the epitome of sexual fulfillment! Maybe I should give myself a "talking to". Like the one I give the girls before we head into a store. The threat-filled and promises of torture kind of talking-to. Something like this:

"Okay girl. Get it together. Stop being so geeked at the possibility of sex that you give yourself bubbly guts! Last thing he needs is a whiff of shitrus while in the act. And when he touches the boobs, don't you DARE start thinking about the baby. No, no, no!!! Remember that shower of milk from bed to ceiling to floor that had you both scrambling for cover? Literally. If you mess this up you will pay for it! Like, exercising for five days in a row, pay for it. And no chocolate or wine. Maybe even no coffee." 

Alright, alright, I can't even take that seriously. No wine or coffee?! Like that's gonna happen!

Off I go to attempt the impossible, to do the unthinkable, to reach the unreachable. 

But, with a well thought out plan, we both may reach the unreachable tonight.

Umm hmm.



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