This morning, I'm climbing out of bed, my fingers tingling from hitting and re-hitting Snooze. Child No. 1 is already asleep next to Amy. Child No. 2 walks in and announces that I must read a book to said child. Now.
But I have to take a shower, get ready for work. Amy knows this, so she intervenes. As I close the bathroom door, I hear Amy say to Child No. 2:
"Come snuggle with me. We can make a Mom sandwich."
Now, I know this was meant to be helpful. And I know the sentence was uttered in complete innocence. But my mind takes that utterance completely out of the context where it was used and inserts it into a new context — one where children are far, far away.
The problem isn't working around the raging erection in the shower. The problem isn't adjusting my pants during a meeting later that morning when my mind wanders back to her sleepy proposal. I have 30 years of experience dealing with those two issues.
No, the problem is the fact that I will get no work done today until I can figure out the answer to this question:
What will it take to get Amy to say those words to me someday?