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Hey Dads, We're Not the Reason You're Not Getting Laid

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I am so tired of reading articles about how women's libidos fail because we are self-conscious about our aging bodies or that our monthly cycles make us irrational and crazy. Sure, we have hormones and we get older, but so do men. Oh sorry, you guys hadn't heard this? I hate to be the one to break the news, but women aren't the only ones who get wrinkles and bellies and grey hairs. Crazy, right?

Your sex life doesn't suck because your wife is insecure. It sucks because you walk around in oversized T-shirts and inside-out saggy briefs. It's true, I should be totally turned on by the way you ignore me while deleting spam from your cell phone, but something in me thinks there may be something missing.

What is it? It MUST be that I'm getting older and biologically less-interested in sex.

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Or maybe it's the way your filthy clothes never quite make it into the hamper or maybe it's your cute little habit of bringing home lunch containers from a month ago filled with mold. Don't forget the balled-up moist socks next to the front door and half-eaten plate of nachos the dog dragged onto the floor after you fell asleep watching some show about space.

It must be that I'm suffering from a lack of self-confidence in the way I look naked.

That or the yucky face you inflicted at my latest recipe is making me want to punch you. I'm trying to prepare healthy options for our family and you just want to eat burritos and talk about how you stopped putting vanilla in your lattes and lost five pounds last week.

Believe it or not, everything is NOT my body's fault.

I guess the 10 pounds I can't manage to lose must be making me tense. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that you pointed out how much bigger and saggier my left boob is as I stepped out of the shower yesterday.

"Getting old is funny, isn't it?" you chuckled. Totally. Now back away slowly before I elbow you in the throat.

Nothing is as sexy as a man who grunts and groans when I forget to flush a pee, but takes a 30-minute poo that makes the dogs flee the house. Bonus points when you leave the door open and tell me about the new girl at work who wears high heels and perfume EVERY DAY. Yes, I can believe it, she's 24. Yes, that sounds fascinating. I sure hope you'll continue talking about it because I'm on the edge of my seat … where I happen to be folding laundry and helping the children with a puzzle while I fantasize about you shutting up.

No, I haven't gotten around to fixing the garbage disposal yet, and yes I'm super excited to have your coworker and his 30-year-old Republican supermodel wife over for dinner. Can I make sure the house is spotless? Absolutely. Have fun playing golf with your friends!

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I love you, darling, I really do, but the next time you ask me, "Why don't you ever want to have sex anymore?" while eating a donut and picking your nose, I may throw something at you.

Believe it or not, everything is NOT my body's fault.

By the way, there's a piece of cheese in your eyebrow.

Now, where'd I put my wine?

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