Marital Strife

The Belle told me that the sex organs are the last ones to go. I tried to wipe that image out of my head.

On the "Today Show" the other morning, they featured two couples. Both had written books and both had to do with their sex lives. One couple chronicled their experiment to recommit to their sex life over 101 days. The other couple vowed to have sex every day for 30 days. Maybe you have to understand my sense of humor but I found this intriguing and hysterically funny.

Marital issues usually come down to:

Money
Children
Exes, if you have them
Parents
Household chores
Sex

We don't fight about household chores. I do as many as I can stand. My dad pitches in with projects. Houseboy does the bulk of it. I've never mowed a lawn in my life and I plan to keep it that way. I'm pretty good at weed pulling.

We don't fight about sex either. We prefer to annihilate each other over more mundane things.

Then, it's the middle of the night and your legs are intertwined. Or, you decide to clean your wedding ring and you read the inscription inside for the millionth time. Or, you dance on the patio and fight about who gets to lead.

Or, you go to a wedding and hold hands and then say quietly to each other, (like you're speaking to the bride and groom,) "Don't do it!" This cracks us up.

Forget that list above. I'm convinced a sense of humor will see you through.

Sloppy Drinkers

We all know them. It's the guy who'll slosh you with red wine when you're wearing a white linen blouse. It's the woman who will tell you every dirty detail of her sex life and then will be mortified the next day. It's the teenager who swears he or she has never touched a drop but spends an inordinate amount of time cleaning the car the next morning.

I am not passing judgement. Wild Bill taught me that drunk dialing is one of the most fun activities. I have done it. I usually call my mother and she is mortified. Like all activities, drunk dialing has some rules:

You must call someone you love. You must tell them over and over again that you love them.
You must call at a weird time. Waking them is preferable.
You must pass the phone around so they can talk to total strangers.

I don't do this any more. My mother is probably relieved.

But, I still live with a sloppy drinker. She wears a collar and embodies destruction on steroids. You won't find her with a glass of red wine but I highly recommend not wearing white or anything linen if you come to my house.