Santa, I hate you.
Tease. I believe this word is derived 98% of the time from the male perspective, and I'll get into that in just a moment.
Last night I'm laying on the floor with Mr. 7. We are drawing Japanese dragons. Actually, I am drawing a dragon, Mr. 7 is drawing something that looks to be your random garden snake, mutilated by a lawn mower. I am focused, the lines are looking awesome, and then I hear two words and three letters in a provocative 900 number voice.
"I want s-e-x."
The lines have gone all warm and fuzzy, or maybe that was just something in my pants. What the hell was I doing? All I can think about is warm and fuzzy. Minutes later I am given the "come hither" stare, and I'm lead into the kitchen where I receive the kiss. The kiss was obviously not your run of the mill peck of routine. No, this was one of those ...I can undo your zipper with a flick of my tongue... sort of kisses that I haven't had since high school.
In the moments I spent staring down the clock in hopes that Mr. 7 and Mr. 4 would reach bedtime before I exploded, she fell asleep. She denied me of my conquest once again. At this moment I am led to believe she is intentionally fucking with me.
To me this is sort of like explaining to your child on Christmas Eve that Santa will be coming down the chimney, bearing an ass load of gifts to make all their dreams come true. Then at eight o'clock when little Timmy is setting out the cookies, his eyes glazed with excitement as he sets out the milk, you explain to him how Santa, the fat bastard, is just another random tall tale that crushes the hopes and dreams of kids all over the globe.
Total let down.
I can't even count the number of times this sort of "let down" has happened to me in the last six months, but I can tell you that one time, because of alcohol, I passed out before my opportunity. Teasing, 98% of the time... it's her, but that one time will continue to haunt me as every conversation about s-e-x arises.
I'm not that slow of a learner. I swear. I got it. I'll never do it again. Promise.
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7 comments:
Just imagine if it were Santa that wanted the sex. Hell you'd lose at both ends...maybe that's a good thing.
I accidentally told my oldest daught this past week that santa wasn't real.
I have NEVER accidentally passed up on "the kiss".
you have my sympathy even if you may not deserve it
Ha ha! Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh but I feel your pain. Yup! I feel your pain. The husband knocks out as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Well..what happened is is turned her on seeing you be a active father..interacting with your #7. Women find this as a stimulas..turn on. The deal was not sealed becase she must have be exhuasted in her mother-wife duties. So you ease her burdens like..vaccum..do the dishes..bath the kids..etc. Then she has enough energy to hang from the chandeliers with you that night!
Try this next time. See if it works......
Just trying to help you get laid...because I am a giver like that!
Jaimie has a good point. The block of time between the kiss and her passing out: That's when you need to spring (no pun intended) into action getting the kids to bed.
Because nothing switches our "sex" mode off faster than "Mother" mode.
Oh, the trials and tribulations!
What would life be without them?
Hey - there's an award for you over at my place. You can pick it up when you want, if you want. Blow off the rules and just dust it once in a while.
Awww you and my hubs have lots in common...hehehe
Seriously, our heart and mind are in the right place at the right time, but then as the time passes our exhaustion kicks in and gets the best of us.
Just do like my hubs, wake her in the morning and refresh her memory! :)
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