I might as well jump right on back into the blog with a giant splash. A great alternative title to this one would be The Bedroom Chronicles.
Why, yes, there will be talk of sex. Hide the children.
So. Yeah. Obviously, it's been a wicked long time since the husband was home last, and obviously it's been that long since I've had sex . . . So, obviously, birth control was the last thing on my mind until recently. Before I left Ohio, I paid a visit to the obgyn and got fitted for a diaphragm. I said good riddance to hormonal birth control long ago, and this seemed like a good option. I filled my prescription, packed it away in a box and didn't have a second thought about it.
And then, all of a sudden, homecoming rolled around. Huh. Imagine that. There we were, baby fast asleep ("Okay, sweetie, hurry up and go to bed early tonight, Mommy's gotta get laid!"), and the unopened diaphragm box sitting on the bed between us. The directions for this thing were like a phone book. The odds of failure were daunting. The entire situation was nothing but clinical. ("Yeah baby, welcome home. Now read these directions.")
In the end, alternative measures were taken and we had a lovely time. Or, as lovely as is to be expected after that experience and in light of what happened next.
Again, I obviously hadn't had sex recently, so I was completely unaware as to the wonderful side effects of breastfeeding.
Yes, those of you who have been there and done that and know exactly what I'm talking about can laugh at me now.
In my defense, it was really hot in our room. So, I don't think I was all that far off when I started thinking to myself that the husband was really sweating. A lot. Like, massive amounts. I made a mental note to rip on him afterwards. But, he got me first. Basking in that afterglow, he turned to me and said "You leaked all over me!"
Allllll over. I'm surprised he didn't drown in the puddle that was on the bed.
I could totally do without that lovely bodily function.
At least he thought it was funny.
Not nearly as funny as what happened the next morning though . . .
Being the wonderful husband he is, he took the child out to the living room to play while I slept for another few minutes. I woke up and rolled out of bed. As I turned around to grab something off the night stand I saw something that makes me still want to throw up a little whenever I think about it.
Crawling out from under my pillow . . . giant, brown, filthy, nasty . . . a three inch long cockroach.
I screamed so loud that instantly the baby started cry and the husband came running. They found me jumping around like a manic trying to smash that bastard bug with a toilet paper roll.
I'm ashamed to say he got away. Hopefully he found some tasty roach bait and is dead in a corner somewhere tonight. If he's not, he will be, because we've finally got the exterminators coming out. This horrible excuse for a livable rental house is driving me insane, and that is just the first step in not having my skin crawl just by sitting on the couch. Bastards are all going to die!
And that, my friends, is The Bedroom Chronicles.
