Moms are foxy LADIES (a parody)

Book Boyfriend

I get into bed, place my head on the pillow and then, ping, my eyes refuse to enter sleep mode. My brain is bashing out a maraca tune inside my head. That’s when I get the oddest notion ever, in the history of ideas. Sex. Sex, would help me sleep. Glancing down, I check out my current look. I decide, the overtired, overstressed look is damn hot. My body however, is literally too tired to go downstairs and say hey baby, I know it’s been about five years and I’m wearing my onesie, my hair needs washing but do you fancy doing it with me tonight? Briefly, as I lie there frustrated that I am tired and can’t sleep, I consider, messaging my husband for a booty call instead. I reach for my phone. Then, I consider what my chances of success are with this course of action. He’s either already fallen asleep on the couch. Doing what I want to be doing. Or, he won’t get the message because he’s finally got the television to himself and is watching something he wants to watch for a change. No, he won’t get the message for at least an hour or so and by that time he’ll absolutely answer my distress call just as I’m about to fall asleep. Then, I’ll be a cranky bitch and nobody wants to let that lady out of the bag. SO, instead, I reach for my book boyfriend and drift off into a sexy dreamy sleep, that, in the morning, I’ll wish I’d gotten more of. © Sarah Northwood 28.02.2017

#fun #flashfiction