After years of infertility and IVF, we've finally seen light from the other side. I knew it could happen, but certainly didn't think it would be us ... our new life with twins. Gulp.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Baksheesh

Bargaining is a part of everyday life. We do it at work, whether negotiating a contract or convincing co-workers to pick the Chinese restaurant over the sandwich stand for lunch. It happens at home – bribing your kids to pick up their clothes with threats of grounding, or going back and forth with your husband about which couch really would look better in the living room.

I reached a new low in bargaining with my husband today. Sexual bribery for childcare. If you don’t want to read about the world of post-baby sex, turn back now.

Let’s set the scene … it’s a lovely Monday morning at my home. Luckily, J works from home, so when an emergency or other calamity occurs, he’s just a scream away. I’ve fed the babies, and have given My Girl a nice calming bath that she really enjoyed. One clean baby down, one to go. I’m undressing My Boy, and have just cleaned his bum and put away the dirty diaper. Last time I bathed him, he pooped in the tub, so this time, I took preventative action: a good talking to.

As we walked to the tub, ready to go and full of sudsy water, I asked My Boy if he would kindly refrain from pooping in the pool, that we’d already had such a nice morning, and let’s keep it that way. We sit down on the toilet, just next to the tub, with My Boy on my lap as we prepare to dive in. And then it happens.

He did obey my instructions and decided to go ahead and get the poop done before bathing. So he pooped in my lap.

I shriek in horror, at the drippy, seedy mess that’s all over my blue sweatpants and slowly leaking towards my clean bathroom floor. Luckily, J is just one room over, and he comes to my rescue and takes the little pipsqueak from me, so I can get myself out of the nasty pants.

Which brings me to the beginning of my shameful saga. I can’t bear to put off the bath, being that the water is ready and My Boy is most definelety in need of some additional cleansing. So I just pull off my pants, wash my hands, and run down the hall to pop them in the washer. I go ahead and give My Boy a rubdown, making sure to clean the poop out of the creases where it has embedded itself. I wrap him up in his sweet blue hooded towel, and take him out to visit Daddy.

While I’m overwhelmed by the absolute sweetness of this newly clean little being, Daddy is clearly fascinated by half-naked Mommy, freshly splashed with water and poop.

It’s obvious where his mind is, and he makes it known to me. To which I quickly reply, without even thinking about it, “Fine. But only, only if you’ll take them so I can take a shower afterwards.”

And it was a great shower. I took my time. Then I did my makeup (when's the last time that happened?), blew my hair dry, picked out clothes. Took my sweet time, I did.

* * * * * *

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever bargained for with sex? C’mon, you know you've done it, too..

2 comments:

GLouise said...

Hilarious!

I can't think of a specific instance, but I am sure I have traded "marital relations" for cooking.

EAB said...

Oh, you mean the sexual bribery was supposed to wait until *after* the babies come? Whoops!

I don't use sex per se as currency, but BJs are another matter -- those are fair game for bribery or rewards. After all, they're completely for his benefit, and done solely to make him happy, not so much an intimate closeness thing. Also, they are much quicker and less fuss than sex!

I can't think of a "worst" thing I've traded for my favors, but the most recent occurrence involved ironing a shirt so I could laze in bed a bit longer....