My dog has developed a Pavlovian response to the removal of my clothes. He runs to my side of the bed and barks at my night stand, upon which sits the bag of Dingo Bones. These treats are employed whenever Mr. Sweet and I are rocking the casbah. Needless to say, Der Houndt was quite put out when Mommy got undressed and actually climbed into bed to go to sleep.

After a friend helped me test drive her Hitatchi Magic Wand, I simply had to get one for myself. It arrived today, and it was all I could do not to chloroform the kids so I could rip the box open and put it to use. Once the short people were in bed (without chemical assistance), Mr. Sweet and I tore open the box . . . and found that a sample of toothpaste in addition to my Magic Wand. Apparently, drugstore.com is concerned about my oral hygiene—which is nice, but I don’t plan on putting that thing in my mouth.

Of course, after putting my new toy to use, Mr. Sweet and I start doing the mattress mambo, and as I’m climbing on top of him, I hear our daughter’s footsteps from overhead (her bedroom is just above ours). The following conversation ensues:

Me: Ugh, Girl is at it again. Does she EVER sleep?

Mr. Sweet: That’s why I wouldn’t let her bring Killer Bunnies upstairs with her tonight.

Me: Yeah, ‘cause she’d be up all night playing it.

Mr. Sweet: With Boy.

Me: No, he’d end up falling asleep. Like father, like son.

Mr. Sweet: True, and Girl would still be up playing.

Me: And complaining she doesn’t have enough carrots.

Mr. Sweet: Like mother, like daughter.

I suppose possessing the ability to talk about your kids during sex without skipping a beat says something about us, but I’m not sure what.

=)