Let's Talk About Sex.
Have you heard about this book, 365 Nights? It’s about a woman who gave her husband, for his fortieth birthday, the “gift” of sex every night for an entire year. FYI, it’s not a novel. It’s non-fiction. As in, there really is an actual woman - with children – who had sex with her husband every single night for an entire year. When I first heard about it, my immediate reaction was oh, God, I hope my husband doesn’t hear about this. I mean, I adore my husband, but sex every night for a year is not on the short list of things I might give him for his birthday. Or ever. But then I read an article about the book in the Style section of the New York Times, and I just couldn’t resist. I had to show it to him. Look at this, I said, in my most pretend nonchalant voice ever. Some woman had sex with her husband every night for a year, and she wrote a book about it. With even more pretend nonchalance than I had feigned, he took the paper from my hand and read the article. When he finished, he handed it back and avoided making eye contact. That’s interesting, he said. It is interesting, I said back. Then he asked if I thought we should try it, and I said no. Actually, what I think I said was, hell, no, just thinking about it makes me tired.
But it did get me thinking. Let’s assume that I didn’t have two kids and a job and a household and a million things racing through my head every single night, let alone a six year old with a habit of sleepwalking into my room at the precise moment that I get into bed and turn off the lights. Even then, would I want to have sex with my husband every single day? Would I want to be a Post Office of sex, delivering the goods through sleet and snow, rain or shine, headaches, cramps, periods, bad moods, I-feel-fat days or just general crankiness? Ummmmm, no, not so much. For me, I want to have sex with my husband because I want to have sex, not because I am contractually obligated to do so. I mean, if we had to have sex every day, no matter what, I think I might start to resent him, even if it was my stupid birthday present idea in the first place. Which is not to say that I wouldn’t necessarily have sex with my husband every day for a year. I mean, if an entire year just happened to be filled with good, I’m-in-the-mood-for-sex kind of days, then sure, why not? Probably, that would be the same year that every day was filled with winning lottery tickets delivered to my doorstep by extremely hot guys riding bareback on unicorns. But hey, you never know.