Moms are foxy LADIES (a parody)
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
Then, I’ll be a cranky bitch and nobody wants to let that lady out of the
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