If Heidi Fleiss were cast to play me as a mom…

I have lied to myself for years, 10 to be exact, convincing myself that I would be ready when the time comes to talk to Gavin about the Facts of Life. I guess in my mind I thought we’d be having a lovely conversation about Mrs. Garrett and the girls at Eastland School, probably over a nice cup of tea. I’m starting to realize the full extent of my delusions this week and I am eager to pass this task on to Tom.

Almost single male seeking pillow talk recipient

Reading the missed connections on Craigslist is my new favorite pastime. This probably goes back to my childhood when I read the personal ads in the paper each Sunday. Yes, I have no doubt my parents needed to involve me in more extra curricular activities. No, I was not seeking a MBA, SWCM who is WE, DDF, HWP looking for some NSA fling.

The safe word is “post-coital”

Today I have the supremely enjoyable task of picking up Tom’s semen analysis from the doctor. I figure it’s going to be way easier than when I had to take the actual sperm into the lab for the test, though. I remember it was during the winter and the lab told me to get it there within 30 minutes and to keep the sample at body temperature. What the fuck? All I was thinking was wouldn’t it be easier at that point if they just took it out of me? I mean, you don’t exactly want to be RUSHING while driving with a cup full of sperm under your ARMPIT. It was pretty much the most awkward sperm-related experience I had ever had, and I’ll be honest with you, I’ve had that stuff in my HAIR.