Last night, we're on the couch, Amy and me. (Ya think I should just rename this blog "On The Couch?")
Amy says: "Was the other night alright?"
I say: "What does that mean? 'Alright?'"
Amy: "I mean, did you have a good time?"
Me: "I loved it. I loved the fact that you were the one who wanted to watch porn. [Amy lets out an embarrassed giggle.] I loved watching you and playing with you. It was fun."
Me: "I mean, I know you weren't really into it. [She seems surprised, as if she's been 'caught.'] It's fine. We don't always have to be teeming with passion. I hope it was fun for you."
Amy: "Yeah. It was fun."
So while I was all worried about Amy not really wanting to have sex in the first place, she was simultaneously worried that I wasn't having a good time.
Do you get the sense suddenly that you're reading the blog of a 17-year-old?
So here's my new bumper sticker for this week: "Less Thinking, More Fucking!" It'll go right next to another (real) favorite bumper sticker I saw on a pickup truck once: "What if the hokey-pokey is what it's all about?"