The stress!

You would think the stress of editing, deadlines, promotions and all the rest would give anyone a severe headache, right?

Wrong, I have found something worse - my child's classroom Christams Party (although we aren't allowed to call them parties and its holiday or winter not Christmas - I'm not religious, but damn, this is getting a touch PC isn't it?).

Why the hell did I volunteer for this shite? Oh, thats right, I am a sucker for punishment and I like to entertain (something that has been significantly curtailed since we came to the States). You might think a house full of 30 adults a daunting task. They ain't got nothin' on 17 6-yr olds!

If you don't hear from me after the 19th of Dec, you know they hated my party planning and stoned me to death with gingerbread cookies and buried me under the playground. Please send the police...

Sex gone awry

I have a few author blogs that I keep up with - Isabella Snow's Smut in G minor is one of them. Recently she made a post about your folks getting jiggy with it.

It made me think of an experience, not involving my parents, but me, as a parent.

Imagine if you will, getting a little morning nooky in, presumably before kiddo is up and awake. Things are going along, as they do, heading for a climactic conclusion, when whomph! Hubby body slams you and knocks all the wind out of you (really it wasn't welcomed at the time, erotic asphyxia I am not into!). Then the unholiest of all sounds peals out around the room, "Giddy up horsey, giddy up!", along with the corresponding sounds of little boy feet pounding into the sides of his fathers back, and his boney little bottom digging its way into the exposed soft flesh of my husbands lower back as he bounces up and down, urging his horsey to go faster and win the race!

Talk about giving a four year old horsey rides around the house coming back to bite you on the ass...bad pun not intended!

Meanwhile, poor ol'me, being on the bottom of the pile is having an extremely hard time breathing...what between the laughter and the impacts on my sternum from hubby being slammed down, repeatedly, in search of the finish line.

It's a pity it wasn't quite the finish line we were aiming for...

You know, there is a book in there somewhere!