When I told my husband that part of his birthday present was that Juli and I didn’t want him to masturbate for two days, you might have thought I was telling him Santa was a pedophile, or that a bus full of orphans had careened into a maternity ward. I wanted to make the day more special. Juli and I had put a lot of thought into it.
Two days before his birthday, I dropped the kids off at my parents home. I informed them we would be cleaning from top to bottom and spraying for ants that had been plaguing us since the summer storms. This part was true. What I didn’t tell was that we’d be doing quite a bit more than that.
I looked over to Juli. She was adorable, and by adorable, I mean scalding hot. We had a list of tasks for the day that we really did need to accomplish. Chris had been given a slightly different list.
“**What?**” a thrilled voice screamed from upstairs. It was seven-thirty in the morning on a Saturday. I knew I could accomplish all I needed to before he got up. “**Vi! Where are you, babe?**”