She sang out from the other room: “Are you gonna have sex?”

My hearing is going, too many years of listening to “Quadrophenia” at full volume on my Walkman as a disgruntled teen. But huh?

“What?” I said.

“Are you gonna have sex?” my daughter said again. Her eyes bulged to match the size of her grin.

My wife wasn’t home. Is she implying I was eyeing the dog?

“I’m getting a piece of cheese out of the refrigerator,” I said. “What show are you watching over there?”


Mental note: Miranda Cosgrove, you are now on The List. Just below American Girl dolls.

“So, ARE YOU GONNA HAVE SEX!” Li’l Diva screamed.

“Do you even know what your asking?”

“I was walking around the mall with Aunt Bernice and all I see are signs saying ‘sex,’ ‘sex,’ ‘sex.'”

“No, I’m not,” I said. “We’re all out. How about ravioli for dinner?”