Joel and I just got back from a date. We shopped for art supplies so he can paint a giant canvas of poppies for me to hang in the living room. We went out to dinner at a restaurant that is rapidly becoming “our” place, where we sat at the same table we sat at the very first time we were there. We talked about all kinds of things – catching up on all of the things that we somehow miss during the days he’s working, books we’ve both read, philosophical questions, music, etc. By the end of the date, we were both feeling a lot more relaxed, happy, and in love.
On the drive home we talked about some sexy possibilities. By the time we said good bye to the babysitter, sex was seeming like a strong possibility. Yay! I rushed to do my bedtime toiletries and joined my husband in the bed room. We undressed, talking and getting the erotic energy flowing between us. We turned down the sheets and… YUCK!
Our toddler, who is in the midst of toilet training, had pooped in the bed. Nothing stops my desire in it’s tracks like poop. At least pet and baby poop. It’s not at all sexy. Just not my kink. We cleaned it up and used enzymatic spray cleaner on the affected areas, but I’m just not feeling the vibe any more. Sometimes having kids is hard in unexpected ways. Poop is the lust killer.