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2001-08-18 | 10:12 a.m.

The kids are downstairs watching a video. "No," I say, as Duff shuts the bedroom door, "I don't want sex. No sex. I just want to snuggle." Then we fool around and have sex. (Sex is not politically correct.) I do something a little different and he is gone, like, instantly. I start laughing.

"That didn't take very long," I say.

"Two minutes," he says.

I do the math.

"I don't think that was two minutes."

"I'm counting foreplay," he says.

We joke about him having a "two-stroke engine." (Don't worry, foreplay minutes were actually in the double digits, which may not be high romance but is all right for a Saturday morning at home with the kids.)

Then the movie is over and the kids are throwing open the door and jumping onto the bed. Jasper wants to nurse. The girls want to cuddle. Duff sits up with the covers cinched around him and grumps, "Get off me. I need to get up. GET OFF!" He pulls his jeans on but not before Criminy leaps onto the pillow behind him and catches a glimpse of bare butt as he is zipping up.

"Why doesn't Daddy have any underwear on?" she asks me.

"Well, we were playing Hide the Underwear and he's mad because I won."

"Where'd you hide them?" Criminy says.

"They're under the covers somewhere."

From the bathroom, Duff yells, "I'm not worried about it and you shouldn't be either!"

Criminy ignores him. "Oh, I want to find his underwear!"

She throws the sheets up in the air and emerges triumphant with a balled-up pair of Jockeys held high.

"I FOUND 'EM!!!" she sings. "Daddy, I found your underwear!" Then she trips off to the bathroom to deliver them, and he is forced to say thank you.

Oh, I bet he wishes sometimes he never hooked up with a hippie like me.

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