Shit happens! This is particularly true if you have any sticky, low-center-of-gravity mooches with deplorable personal hygiene habits (a.k.a. children) living in in your home.
I expected the diapers, the screaming and the colorful puke storms in the middle of the night.
But I certainly did not anticipate all the coitus interruptus.
In the early going, having the kids around had little impact on my schedule of frequent, in-home desplooginations. When our twins were newborns or infants Mrs Hornibastard and I could get after it right in front of them and they were none the wiser.
Then our twins became a little wiser and everything changed.
I remember very clearly our first coitus interruptus. I was gleefully pumping away on top of Mrs. Hornibastard when our daughter (3-4 years old at the time) suddenly appeared at our bedside. She was very concerned about Mommy’s vocalizations. She expressed her deep disapproval about Daddy hurting Mommy.
So we had to take a short break to reassure her that Mommy was just fine. My daughter’s facial expression suggested that she wasn’t really buying our story.
Not too long after that incident, our daughter showed up out of nowhere and chided her mom for sitting on Daddy’s face. She said something about it not being very polite. Our daughter had a very thick baby accent at the time so it was hard to understand exactly what she said. The tone of her voice, however, made it abundantly clear that she disapproved of this behavior.
So we had to clean up our act a little bit. We started closing doors and locking them whenever we were in the mood to get juicy.
When the kids were about 5 years old, Mrs. Hornibastard and I were well on our way to Nirvana when our son came into our bedroom. We were initially unaware of his presence until he suddenly bleated, “What? You’re doing THAT again?”
( tuscl.net )
His comment broke both our concentration and our rhythm but at least it made us laugh.
We later wondered when it was that our son had previously seen us getting juicy.
Now our twins are 10 years old. I think they’re beginning to understand and tolerate our wicked ways. But we close and lock our doors, double-checking that everything is secure, before we start getting sticky.
Mrs. Hornibastard used to get pretty vocal when she was having a really good time. It seemed that the happier she was, the noisier she became.
Now she whispers her orgasmic exclamations (if that makes any sense).
The coitus interrupt us was NOT mentioned in any of the pamphlets and informational brochures about having children!
