In 2006, Justin Timberlake brought sexy back. I’m here to take it away once again.
When my husband and I first met, I was so giddy in love that, on the weekends, I would sneak away to the Starbucks caddy-corner to our trendy LoDo apartment whenever the urge to do a #2 arose. Back then, our sex-life was exciting and adventurous and wonderfully strange.
Fast-forward to today. We live in a charming (read: tame, boring) ranch with two kids. When we’re feeling naughty, we stay up until 10 pm, watching Modern Family. The weirdest place we’ve done it this year is our Tempur-Pedic bed, and, nowadays, my poor husband’s lucky if I remember to close the bathroom door.
I’ve met those people who are all: “I’ve been happily married for 33 years; every single day is as wonderful and exciting as the first night of our honeymoon.” You know what I was just talking about doing in the bathroom with the door open? Put “bull” in front of it.
There’s no denying it: a LTR (long-term relationship), whether it’s marriage or years of committed cohabitation, can squash the flame faster than you can say, “Somebody, please take Matthew Perry’s new show off the air.”
If you’re still reading, maybe you’re thinking, “She’s right – my relationship used to be vulgar like Bob Saget’s stand-up, but now it’s tame and sometimes I’m shocked it still exists, kind of like Full House re-runs.” You’re probably wondering why your relationship changed, if pooping with the door open was a factor, and whether Bob Saget ever touched the Olsens inappropriately.
Pooping with the door open isn’t the problem. Keep doing it. Or don’t. I don’t care.
The reason your relationship changed, the reason your sizzling sex life suddenly fizzled, is best explained by a C.S. Lewis quote. The fairy tale ending “and they lived happily ever after” wasn’t meant to mean “the prince and the princess screwed their brains out every night for all eternity.” (I’m paraphrasing here, you guys.)
That fairy tale ending wouldn’t make any sense. If you fornicate too regularly, you’ll risk ending up with dozens of children – and, believe me, kids are no friend to a LTR.
LTRs are going to ebb and flow – it’s one of those filthy life facts your high school sex ed teacher forgot to mention. While longevity isn’t always sexy, it’s usually funny. So, come, journey with me through a satirical world of LTR mishaps and sexual misadventures. It’s time to lower your expectations. (Lower than that. Way lower.) We’re going to a magical place where cynicism supersedes optimism and crying after sex is expected, especially if your partner insists on wearing a Ross Perot mask and accidentally shouts. “Harder, Carly CrunkBear!” even though your name is Rebecca and you’re not a first grade teacher. Come, let’s untangle the mystery of the LTR together.