My children strongly dislike it when I write about sex. No, take that back. They hate it. Not just sex, but anything having to do with the slightest reference that Jon and I engage in any form of romantic behavior. But the thing is, I’m not really sure they read my daily blog post. So, this is going to be a fun way to find out. It’s like I’m a researcher, and I’m conducting an experiment. If they don’t say anything to me about this, I’ll know they don’t read it. If I get a lecture from them, telling me how inappropriate and embarrassing I’m being, I’ll know they do read it.
Either way, I win.
But, sex and dogs don’t mix.
We have a huge Golden retriever named Winchester. He’s a dog I never wanted, but completely love. He’s sweet, kind, and adorable. He’s also ridiculously big. It’s like living with Clifford the Big Red Dog. Except he’s not red, he’s golden.
Winchester sleeps in our room, in the corner, on his dog bed. He’s pretty good about staying on his bed, and doesn’t really cause us any trouble. The exception would be when we engage in any form of physical contact.
He doesn’t like it when Jon gives me attention. He comes over to Jon’s side of the bed, puts his very large head onto the bed, and grunts. Because the dog is so big, one can’t help but be distracted.
This is not ideal.
“Put the dog outside of our room,” I usually shout at Jon, but by then, the mood is ruined. And there’s no going back.
I know you’re thinking we should just leave Winchester permanently outside of our bedroom. However, he’s gotten so used to sleeping in our room it would be more distracting because he would cry and whine.
What I find especially funny, is that finally we don’t have to worry about the kids walking in on us. Now that they’re older, they don’t want to come anywhere near our room. Except to steal my clothes, which doesn’t occur at night.
It’s just our big jealous dog we have to worry about.
Find meaning each day,