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Monday

Threesomes

There are only a few men who don't think ménage à trois when they hear the word "threesome." God forgive me for even desiring such a thing, but I never got the chance to indulge in this debauchery prior to being married and unless my wife completely loses her mind, I don't expect to have the opportunity now that I am, although the literal meaning in French is "a household of three" --- a married couple and some other chick.

As it turns out, however, I've recently realized I've been involved in a ménage à trois for the past year or so, indulging at times at least three times a week. When my daughter decides she's done with the austere comforts of her crib, she makes her presence known in the middle of the night with a wail or a scream and joins our bed. Sometimes she never even makes it to her crib, as she begins her nightly slumber in our bed between us. Depending on how tired mom and dad are, we might not get up the energy to move her once she falls asleep. "We" means my wife because I am damn near dead when I'm asleep.

In any case, what I gleefully envisioned as a sinful, wonderfully lustful experience no less than two years ago has in actuality materialized into an experience where I am headbutted, poked in the eyes, slapped, kicked in the mouth and stomach, slept on, farted on, pushed off the bed, and deprived of sheets and covers. Sometimes only a few of these things happen (in varied combinations), and on other days, like last night, my daughter is capable of all of this. Once the sun rises, I greet the day beat up and ready to go back to bed. And who's out cold, sleeping like a lamb? My daughter of course. God has an awful sense of humor.

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