Measured Passion

Michelle and I went out for a nice dinner and bottle of wine last night. To borrow a line from that Flight of the Concords song, conditions were perfect. You know, we were going to do IT.

At this point in our lives these feelings do not precipitate the tearing of clothes, the ripping of buttons, and rug burns on your knees from the living room carpet. After all, it’s not like our parents are about to get home or anything. We have some time, and frankly, I think I have a sure thing here. We have time to get the dog settled, brush our teeth, go to the bathroom, and then meet in bed. Which we did.

The bed was cold though, so we cuddled up tight. The bed promptly warmed up and lulled us off to sleep.

I showed up in bed expecting some friction and that affects my routine. I grind my teeth at night like a dog with a bone so I wear a mouth guard, which I obviously forgo when there is an opportunity to do some necking. I also figured I’d be up after I was finished wowing my lady so that would be a good time to go pee and get a glass of water.

Instead I wake up disoriented and thirsty, I have a headache from clenching my teeth, and a full bladder. Not to mention that I had clearly missed my window of opportunity and was not getting lucky. It was a tough way to wake up. I’m still trying to shake it off.

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