The girls can interrupt her and it's not a problem because she's mastered motherhood ... the art of being nice to your children when you want to kill them in desperate hope of teaching them a life lesson ... but if I do it Satan himself doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell coming out unscathed.
But I can't help it.
She's hard at work as I stroll pass and ... "Damn!" I say to myself, "That is one beautiful woman there!"
I grab my phone and snap photos.
"What are you doing?" she asks without raising her eyes or fingers from the keyboard.
"Nothing," I answer.
"You're lying," she says continuing to type.
Of course I'm lying but I'm not about to admit it.
If I admit to lying I'd also have to confess to having impure thoughts and the whole thing would snowball ... straight to Hell.
She makes a face.
Now Sarah is the best face maker of anyone I've ever met.
Rembrandt, Picasso and Da Vinci would kill to have each expression the subject of their next painting.
I snap a photo.
"I'm working," she shoots "and this has to be done."
"I can't help it you're so beautiful I have to stop and take a few pictures."
"Umm-hmm," she skeptically moans continuing to type.
We've been married long enough so I know I best get the Hell out of there now.
"Love you honey," she says as I leave.
I fail to respond overwhelmed by impure thoughts.
Sarah says working from home is much more difficult than she ever thought.
Tell me about it!
