I said, “Well… we could be having sex more.” It’s not a shocking thing. I’ve said it multiple times before.

He said, “Maybe tomorrow.” Which is basically his catchphrase at this point.

“Maybe if you stopped watching porn for a while…?”

“I’m not even really interested in it right now. We just need to change the air here. We need to go out together. During the day.” This is a nearly impossible ask as we two kids and no family around. We have some friends we may be able to ask. Of course I’m going to try it out, but I’m not delusional enough to think that one date is going to fix our dead bedroom.

“Ok, let’s try it.”

Next day (yesterday), I shave and get all ready because maybe sex is still on the table. I’ve already decided I’m done initiating, but after mentioning I shaved, he makes a joke saying he did, too, and showed me his pubes, so I showed mine (or lack there of), and… nothing. I go to bed feeling defeated.

This morning, I take the baby out into the living room, and the wet wipes are on the couch. A telltale sign of what happened the night before. Only this time, to really drive the point home, he accidentally left his laptop right next to them.