If Teacher was right, and angels get their wings every time a bell rings, then every time I have sex, the angels are in line, jumping up and down and shouting, “Pick me! Pick me!”
Not only do I have to worry about performance anxiety because the cat insists she has to be in close proximity to all intimate encounters, but I also have to try to ignore the sound of whatever device happens to go off during crucial moments.
I kid you not. I don’t care if I have sex in the early morning, middle of the day, evening, late at night or wee hours of pre-dawn, SOME kind of bell will start to sound.
It’s been telemarketers, not one, nor two, but three of the children calling in rapid succession, text message alerts, nextel beeps, the smoke alarm deciding that it’s battery needs to be changed, you name it.. if it can ring, blip, beep or chirp I’ve had it go off.
And it’s not like hubby and I are sex fiends who go at it night and day (DARN). We have busy lives and are comfy with our intimacy and we have no problems engaging at any of the aforementioned hours. But, no matter what, or when, or where… there will be a bell.
I guess I shouldn’t really complain, because it is rather heavenly and if I’m doing my part to help the heavenly host induct new members then all I can say is… honey.. let’s go make some angels!
“Giving out wings since 1982”