The Folded Lawn Chair
This occurs when the wife, mistakenly thinking she still weighs on the low end of 120, straddles her husband in his Tempur-Pedic lawn chair. A spilled Sanka, a ripped pair of Spanx, and two cracked skulls later, no one is any closer to climax.
When the lawn boy’s a dead ringer for Javier Bardem, every Wednesday the wife will be in the mood for a little role play. Begin by getting a spray tan and brushing up on your Canary Island Spanish, then set the mood by spreading lime with your large, calloused hands and drinking in slow-motion from the garden hose. Don’t forget to wear some cutoffs, a sleeveless flannel, and a pair of loosely laced work boots! Oh. And most importantly? A bag on your head.
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Go Lie Down, Doggie
Missionary style, wearing Disney sweatshirts, while the family dog looks on in pity. Or is it disgust?
In this instance, position doesn’t matter, just somebody slips a disc.
The same as above except somebody’s screaming: JESUSMARYANDJOSEPHMYGODFORSAKENBACK!!!!!!!
While the husband watches online porn, the wife repeatedly asks: “Do these Target capris make my ass look fat?”
That one time a year, after a viewing of Pretty Woman, that the wife does that thing. You know, the thing that requires you to buy something from Tiffany’s.
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I AM Your Daddy
Foreplay on a playroom couch that leads to an unintentional lightsaber probing.
Hide The Toblerone
No, seriously. Hide it. Your husband desperately wants to devour your candy bar. And sadly, “candy bar” isn’t code for anything.
The Jimmy Fallon
I don’t care what we do, just so long as I can still see the television.
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After coming across your high school yearbook in the attic, you’ll come across your high school yearbook in the attic.
When the bedroom door won’t lock, somebody’s gotta keep one eye open for the kids. (A variation on this theme involves one spouse passing out on Captain Morgan’s.)
Arizona Hot Pocket
Your relatives in Phoenix always put us on the pull-out couch, right in the middle of the living room. But that’s not going to stop me from trying.
Tell you what. Why don’t I “work late” while you drink yourself into an asylum.
Between the kids’ bedtime and Deadliest Catch, maybe we could…What? We missed last week’s episode and it’s on right now? Well, never mind! I’ll be taking a raincheck on what was certain to be a half-hearted jack anyway, thankyouverymuch.
Whitney Collins is the creator and editor of two humor sites: errant parent and The Yellow Ham. Her humor appears on The Big Jewel, McSweeney’s, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and Fathermucker’s blog; you can visit her website at whitneycollins.com. She lives with her husband and two sons in Kentucky, where she’s been known to do mediocre local stand-up.