So. I read The Bloggess post today and died laughing because honestly, as much as I love my husband and as much as I value a healthy sex life, I have to admit, I’ve spoken very similar words in my own head on occasion: “Well then I guess we’re both gonna have to pee in the bed because I’m stopping in about 10 minutes. Some of us have shit to do Kevin“. (A quote from Jenny Lawson’s, The Bloggess post 5/6/14). I find this hilarious probably because my husband’s name is Kevin.
For reference: http://thebloggess.com/2014/05/this-is-why-im-almost-never-asked-to-write-for-the-news/#comments
So freaking funny (and true!) about the soaked sheets thing. I mean, “once upon a time”, in the not too distant past, and maybe even sometimes, still… occasionally (ahem), soaked sheets are hot. And you know...my husband and I have tried some pretty freaky stuff, so maybe there were some other body fluids involved. But it’s also extremely possible we were just so inebriated, that it really was an accident…
Anyhooo, I’m totally digressing. Point is: “Oh you want sex??? Sure. I’ll pencil you in”.
I’m 45 now. Busier than ever before and my one-and-only kid is now 13. I’m not chasing diapers anymore but somehow I’m busier! The sexual dynamo I was certain I’d be til they toss me in the kiln, so-to-speak, has packed her bags and set sail for a destination unknown. Perhaps it’s the crazy over 40 hormones. Maybe it’s my work schedule what with massage and writing, soccer games and training transport throughout the week, the countless errands and house crap that needs to get done. It’s all just exhausting. Who has the energy for a zesty romp after a day like that? Not I, said the fly, with a pie in his eye. (I couldn’t resist that. I use to say that when I was a kid. I loved rhyming).
Anyway- who doesn’t LOVE a good orgasm?
These days, I’m likely to knock out one or two all by myself. Less time. No contorting. No laying there feeling guilty because you’re about to fall asleep. And…NO SOAKED SHEETS. First of all, “Eww” (unless it’s a reckless night of weekend abandonment). And secondly, guess who has to launder that shit?! You guessed it.
Note:
“Toss me in the kiln” : That’s cremation speak versus “put me in the ground”, for those who prefer to be embalmed in gnarly smelling fluid, laid in a box at which people can gawk, then buried like a doggy bone. I guess I’d rather be “burned and returned” (to the Earth and maybe a small part of me in a keepsake box for my son to display on his mantle. The part that reminds him to stop peeing on the toilet lid). I’m sure some people think cremation is equally as “eeewwwy”. To each his own.
Team crispy!
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