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Jan. 28th, 2009

I think it's time.

SEX FAILURES.

Thanksgiving. Owen and I were in charge of making those Pillsbury buns. So we go downstairs, roll them, put them in the oven, and set the timer for 20 minutes...10 minutes later, we're mid-sex, and we hear all this yelling from upstairs. We don't realize they're trying to yell at us. Chloe comes down - I thought I locked my door, and I definitely did not. My bedroom door wasn't even closed. So she's standing at my front door, going "uuuuuh" and I'm in the other room yelling "DON'T COME IN HERE".

She says "we smell burning smells from upstairs" and scuttles off fairly quick. I check the timer, and it's only 10 minutes in, so I figure it can't be us, and it must be some food upstairs. We stop for a little while, laughing, and I'm about to put clothes on...when he gets overcome with something and just goes for it again. So he's getting closer and closer to the promised land, and then suddenly my door bursts open again - this time my sister and my mother. They're screaming that they can smell the smoke from upstairs. Owen does the most magnificent leap I have ever seen him do, from standing just on the edge of the bed to throwing himself across the bed, effectively getting out of eyesight lest they poke their heads in. They did not. But they did yell a lot.

The buns were burned. We made some more. We did not have sex...but those ones burned again anyways. We didn't ruin Thanksgiving because we wanted to have sex, Thanksgiving was ruined because my oven was broken.

YOURS NOW.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
marcellajoleen
Jan. 29th, 2009 06:29 am (UTC)
Thank god for Owen being an acrobat. XD
theplotfiles
Apr. 3rd, 2009 04:47 pm (UTC)
HOLY SHIT.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )