We were watching Outlander last night, K and I, in our hotel room (we were on a mini-vacation at a waterpark resort.) It was the episode where Claire and Jamie were finally reunited after a 20-year separation, and things were getting a bit heated. They kissed. She undid his neckcloth. He reached for the buttons on her dress, and then—
The door. It was E. I paused the action to help her find her Kobo, then sent her back to her room. K and I turned back to the screen and pressed play.
“It’s always been forever for me, Sassenach,” Jamie was saying, onscreen, while attacking Claire’s neck. She was down to her stays and shift by now, and he was about to lose his breeks. We heard a sigh, then a gasp, then—
N’s knock, and his voice: “Guys? Can I come in? I need hugs!”
So I paused the show again and let N into the room. He got hugs… and snuggles… and then was firmly directed to go to bed. As soon as he left the room, we pressed play again.
Jamie was ever-so-slowly untying the bow at the top of Claire’s shift. A moment later, they tumbled into bed, and Claire whispered—
“Eema? I can’t find my phone!” This from R, who loses her phone once every few hours.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” I threw my hands up, exasperated.
K piped up: “It’s probably under your clothes.”
R went over to her bed and rummaged around for a bit. K looked at me, and I seized the teachable moment: “This is a perfect illustration of how difficult it can be to carve out time with your partner once you have kids.”
“Why did you have so many of us?” K wondered.
Why? I thought to myself. After this demonstration, I’m wondering HOW.