Army of Mom

So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause.


TMI and Bad Timing

Ok, this is most definitely TMI. So sorry.

I seldom have sex dreams that ever reach, uh, er, fruition. I almost always wake up before something good happens. Now, I have had disturbingly erotic dreams about Kelsey Grammar, Robin Williams, Pippin (the hobbit version of Billy Boyd) and Kasey Kahne (he wasn't good in my dream, by the way.) My first was about David Lee Roth. He would have loved doing the college girl version of me with a big bow in my hair, I'm thinking. But, I digress.

This morning, I'm happily in mid-dream with Jeff Gordon handcuffed to a headboard. I'm getting to the good part of getting him undressed when I hear CREAAAAAAK and then:

Hot Rod: MOM! MOM! My soccer game starts at 8:24!!!!!!!!
AoM: *sleepily and grumpily* No it doesn't. They moved it to 11:12.

In my mind I'm thinking AAAAAARRRGGGGHHHH because I'm never getting back in bed with Jeff Gordon again.

Drats. Foiled again. Cockblocked, so to speak, by my offspring.


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