Thursday, May 21, 2009

Lesson Learned

I hereby solemnly swear to always close and lock my bedroom door before getting on my groove thang with my husband. I pinky swear. I Girl Scout promise. I cross my heart. I swear to the Flying Spaghetti Monster AND to the Invisible Pink Unicorn.

I am taking this oath before you today because I learned that not adhering to it can have quite a disastrous outcome, one that I hope will not require my children to need some serious therapy later in life. You see, yesterday was my birthday, and I was getting some extra special lovin’ - lovin’ that was long, long, long after the kids’ had fallen asleep for the night - when all of a sudden I hear an itsy bitsy voice from the OPEN door say, “Daddy, why are you making Mommy cry?”


We convinced Emily that Mommy and Daddy were just playing around, and asked her to please go back to bed. It must have been the use of our Jedi mind trick, “There is nothing to see here; these are not the parents you are looking for” because thankfully, she did not pull one of her insanely strong-willed independence tantrums, and she actually did as she was asked and went back to bed.

We both said a secret thanks to any power that be that she is short and our bed is tall. Then we finished our biznez.

Then, I hear, from the OPEN door, “Daddy, aren’t you supposed to be in BED?” I know! Couldn’t one of us have taken 15 seconds to walk to the door, shut it, and lock it? Evidently not!

This time, Braedyn had sauntered in. Apparently I (yes, I will take the blame) had woken not one, but BOTH children up in the heat of our moment.

Oh. CRAP. Squared.

After a few minutes laden with shock and fear, we checked on them, only to find they were both sound asleep again. Hooray! So what do Greg and I go do? Do we pass out from exhaustion and fear? Not quite. Do we point and waggle fingers at each other placing blame? Hardly. No, we race to Twitter and Facebook about it. Seriously, instead of passing out after, ahem, well you know, or after the adrenaline-pumping, energy-draining fear of hearing your kids’ voices at that very wrong moment, we sat at the table with our respective laptops and joke and laugh about it through Twitter and Facebook.

You’d think tech-savvy peeps might remember how a simple door lock mechanism works. I mean REALLY.


  1. It's not true. She is just trying to get a better ranking on Google. We were actually fighting because, well, I'm over 40 now and with memory lapses and all I forgot to refill my Viagra prescription and she REALLY wanted some lovin' for her birthday. THAT'S why she was crying.

  2. I thought it was just ONCE a year, not twice... NICE!!!

  3. It won't scar them until they're in their teens and chatting with friends about whether or not they think their folks ever did it and who in the group has ever walked in on the deed and then an image will flash across their memory screen and they'll get a nauseous feeling and -- oh, I mean, I just imagine that's what'll happen.

  4. Hee hee hee. Hee hee hee hee hee. I'd like to make a useful comment, but I just... hee hee hee.

  5. You obviously weren't following the less than four minutes rule. It has saved our lives. I mean, we don't have kids, but we do like public places...

    Oh, and my verification word is "rugbalic." Oh, yeah, baby, rugbalic all over me...

  6. Oh my :) Great post! You had us in stitches!

  7. My stepdaughter walked in on me and the husband when she was about 12 years old. That pretty much scarred me for life and I think she was temporarily blinded for a few days afterwards.

  8. Our son is 8 and we still forget to lock the door. One day this will come to cause terribly, irreversible harm to our child!

  9. Haha! I *wish* that I couldn't relate to this from personal experience, but...