I'm trying this out. Here's part of my latest article, this on in Sacramento parent, and it's about sex. So, sure, you'll read it.
My kids have ruined my sex life.
Not for the reasons you might think. My wife and I aren’t too tired. I still think she’s sexy after having kids. Hell, you could roll my wife in axle grease, give her a 1977 perm, and add 30 pounds and it wouldn’t deter me from my husbandly “duties.” We’re not too busy.
It’s them: les petits saboteurs. They walk around on little ninja-rabbit feet. They are silent, sexy-time killers. We never know when they’re just going to pop their head over the edge of the Serta and ask for water. It got so bad that we couldn’t do the wangdango at all.
“Oh baby, I love how—did you hear something?”
“Everything’s fine, sweetheart, let me just—“
“I think he’s coming up the stairs! Get Dressed!"
Read the rest. . . .
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