It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye.
Sex, sex, and more sex. Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about the great unmentionable deed so the squeamish had been browse on and dad, if you’re reading this now would be the perfect time to close the laptop and go on with your day.
Why is it that so many of us will do so many ridiculous things for the men we love… until a situation of unavoidable stickiness comes along (seriously, why does sex have to be so f-ing sticky?!?!?!) and if we’re not 100% in the mood the line in the sand of our love has been drawn.
At different points throughout last week I’ve touched the grossest socks known to man (David’s soccer socks) so they’d be clean for his game, I’ve cleaned up vomited covered children and bedding five times entirely in the dark so I wouldn’t wake David by turning on the light at three in the morning, and done more than one SO BORING homework assignment for him. Sounds like I love the guy to death right? But try and wake me up for a little late night shenanigans and you might as well have asked me to run over my own dog. I turn into all sorts of a pissy bitch.
Let’s look at this objectively though, shall we? To be blunt, my enormous pregnant self is not exactly the bell of the ball. I’m huge all over, covered in purple-brown zigzagy stretch marks, and my boobs are all National Geographic. I know he would love me no matter how fat, stretch marky, and saggy I could get, but he thinks I’m so flippin hot that he constantly (and I mean CONSTANTLY) wants to get all up ons. And this pisses me off? Seriously? What the hell?!?!
I’m all hung up on getting an extra half hour of sleep when I should be grateful that I have an amazing husband who thinks I’m the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Plank much?
If you want to play along with Plank Pullin day go to my friend Jessica’s blog.