Good news: I've been offered a contract for PULLING THE GOALIE by Chalice Press. First printing will be hardcover in 2011. more soon. www.christianpiatt.com
“Fuck it.”
These two simple words are what started the baby ball rolling in the Piatt household. After months of counseling, discernment, weepy nights and sleepless mornings, I submitted, succumbed, caved in like the roof of a Geo convertible.
I know ‘fuck it’ is an ironic choice of words, considering the circumstances. I also think it’s sadistically ironic that we men are biologically tuned to be unfettered humping machines, sticking it wherever we can fit it, yet we’re usually the ones who freak out the most about the byproduct of said poking. In some ways, I’m such a typical male, visually aroused by anything vaguely resembling a boob or a female backside. For crying out loud, hourglasses make me pitch a tent. In other ways, I’m far from normal: working from home and sharing responsibility with my wife for the daily development of our four-year-old son, Mattias.
Can we survive with two jobs and two kids? Am I insane for even considering this? Will my wife forgive me if I give up trying? Sure, tissues and lotion would be simpler, but even though marriage is about more than sex, it ain't the same without it.