“I think you’re right, but it was a lot of fun,” he says in a growly voice. He said it was fun! Now is my chance.
“You know, I think we should stop practicing making babies,” I say, trying desperately to sound as nonchalant as possible and failing miserably at it. Even I can hear the shakiness in my breath.
He opens his eyes and lifts his head from the back of the couch. “What do you mean stop practicing? I like practicing,” he says, baffled by the notion.
“Yes, but I think we’ve had enough practice. You know?”
“I do not know! I doubt we’ll ever have enough practice,” he says. He’s so not catching my meaning. I take his face between my hands and look him square in his deep brown eyes.
“Seth, my love. You precious man. I don’t want to practice making babies anymore because I want to make babies,” I say. His eyes grow huge as he continues to stare into mine.
“Well, why didn’t you say so, Hannanah?” He scoops me up from the couch and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I scream and then smack his well-toned backside since it’s basically right in my face. I’m not complaining. I’ll take any opportunity to look at his butt.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“No time like the present,” he says as he rushes down the hall to our bedroom and kicks the door closed behind him.