Ah, the joy of children. It was over fifty years ago, but I remember it very clearly:A kid knocking on the bedroom door. My youngest woke up once while I was in the act. I look over and this little dude has pulled himself on his feet in the crib and was watching. Yeah that pretty much killed the mood. Dada didn’t want to beat mommy up after that
At least when the dog would watch I could tell it to get the fuk on and it would leave. Yes my dog knows the F word. He knows if that gets added to the sentence it’s a good idea to disappear
I was happily rogering my beautiful redhead when the bedroom door burst open and my three-year old son goes running by the bed without seeing us, yelling, "I GOTTA GO POTTY!"