Zoey has officially taken over the house. I guess all the baby toys scattered all over the living room or the spit up covered couch didn't really convince me who was in charge, but it really hit me last night. I was climbing into bed after a long, but good, day when the husband wrapped me in his arms for a lingering kiss. I could definitely tell what was on his mind, and although so very tired, I did not have the heart to turn my sweet husband down especially since he had let me dominate Guitar Hero while he sat and cheered me on. So, when made the suggestion, I tried to be excited. However, something that I learned in college has been rattling around my head since Zoey came along. The term is "the primal scene" and it refers to a child seeing their parents (clears throat uncomfortably) ...in action. Viewing the primal scene can be detrimental to the child, and with us as her parents, Zoey already needs all the help she can get. John and I looked each other dumbfounded as we realized that no longer could we have a spontaneous trist in our own bedroom. What to do? Well, Zoey has taken over our room, so don't we have the right to do the same? Too bad her crib is not big enough for the two of us. That would be poetic justice. The only other option was the guest room. So we have now become guests in our own house, but, hey, it gets the job done.