The Real Reason We Probably Won't Have a Second Child

The other night, after we put Cheeky to bed, I was feeling a little randy.  Maybe I was inspired by Peter, or maybe it was the vodka, but I had designs on the missus.  Rather than my usual pick-up line ("Do you wanna do it?") I thought I'd try something a little more...romantic.

My wife had slipped off to the bathroom to do whatever she does in there.  I thought it might be sweet and fun to sneak up behind her, take her in my arms, and sweep her off her feet.  I'd seen it work on TV, so it must work in real life.

So I quietly padded to the bedroom, and silently slipped into the walk-in closet just outside the bathroom.  I secretly waited until she had passed the door before I made my move.

Observant readers may have already noticed at least one serious flaw in this scheme.  "Sneaking" is not generally associated with "romantic."

Also, when she started to turn around I probably shouldn't have rushed at her.

I'm not sure if my mind registered that perhaps I wasn't executing my plan as well as I'd hoped.  Once she screamed and started to shake, however, I picked up on it.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???"

"It was supposed to be romantic!"

"I'M SO SCARED I'M CRYING!"

"Yeah...um...sorry about that."

It probably did not help that I was laughing so hard I was gasping for air.

And no...we didn't.

Happy Valentine's Day, ladies...be glad you've got the man you do, 'cause the alternative might just scare the shit out of you.