When I got home last night, my husband was upstairs, still putting the kids to bed. It sounded pretty quiet, but there was still a sleepy mumble or two coming from the bedrooms. I decided to stay downstairs until I knew the kids were asleep, in order not to rouse them.
There wasn't enough time to do much else that wouldn't make noise, so I grabbed a basket of laundry to fold and popped on the television. A movie was on called Little Children. It seemed pretty interesting, but I soon learned that the main character was in the middle of a loveless marriage. There were so many wrong choices that this couple was making. The characters themselves, and what subsequently unfolded, made the movie interesting, but I confess what little I saw really disturbed me, and I was happily able to shut the television off at the moment when the wife was about to have sex in the laundry room with the stay at home dad she met on the playground
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