Chugga Chugga
Saturday night the hubby and I were engaged in some nocturnal activities and we decided to go in our front living room, which is a safe distance from the girls’ bedrooms as well as the den, which is favorited by the dogs, who tend to fling themselves at our feet or on to our laps for haunch scratching if he and I so much as glance at each other past 9 p.m.
I got up from the loveseat to turn off our Christmas tree lights and my foot kicked a small plastic object on wheels.
Suddenly a circus tune started merrily blasting away from a toy train as if we were under the Big Top. Let’s just say the timing was really off.
Foreplay is pretty much doomed if the only toys in the vicinity are from Fisher Price.
p.s. Did someone misplace their order for an extra helping of Monday? We have no hot water and both Miss A and the hubby are under the weather. This is the third Monday in a row I have requested to work from home. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to attempt to go into the office at all, but then I do like to dabble in occasional adult conversation.
