How to Make Love (a Satire)

How to Make Love (a Satire)

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...To Your Wife

Start at 6:00 a.m. This is going to be a long day but those few minutes (aim, high, young man!) of bliss are going to be worth it. Keep your eye on the prize. I repeat, keep your motherf*cking eye on the prize (this can be a literal translation).

Get the children dressed for school while she is in the shower. This is going to hurt SOFREAKINGBAD but suck it up, buttercup. Don't bother checking their dressers for clothing. All the clothes that they need are going to be in the laundry room, in a pile. No, not THAT pile, the clean clothes pile is closer to the dryer and probably in a basket. Or not. Just smell clothes, dude, until you find something that seems clean. Don't worry if anything you dress them in matches, matching is passée. Your wife started that trend, I bet you're glad she did!

Throw the children pop-tarts, seat them in front of Sponge-bob (luckily you didn't read that article about how it's making the kids dumber) and quietly head upstairs.

  • Praise
  • A party in celebration
  • A blog post written in your honor

Now this is where you might cock-block yourself, so BE CAREFUL. Do not expect any of the following in exchange for getting the children dressed:

Before you interrupt me and begin your inevitable whining, let me remind of you two things: 1) She does this every single day, dude. And 2) when was the last time you even thanked her for doing it? Hello, never.

Let's take a moment, right now, to check in on how things are going for you:

The kids are dressed and have begun their day with their favorite rectangular and nutritious pre-baked toaster pastry. CHECK!

Your wife is mildly impressed by your effort and extremely suspicious of your motive. CHECK!

If you make any sort of move now you're going to blow it (Insert vague sexual innuendo here). DO NOT MENTION SEX. DO NOT EVEN ACT LIKE YOU REMOTELY WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH THIS WOMAN. Now, listen! I know what you're thinking! She is looking mighty fine in those sweatpants. And your radar is pinging like crazy with possible signs of perceived interest on her part. DING DING DING SHE TOOK A SHOWER! SHE WANTS ME SHE WANTS ME!

Be cool man! IT'S TOO SOON!

Go to work.

But there is no time to work today. Set the alarm on your phone to go off every 30 minutes. Send your wife a text at these intervals, just to remind her that you are thinking of her.

Brian just came into my office and was telling me that I have the coolest wife he knows.

Good Texts:

That last blog post you wrote about the importance of "talking about our feelings" was so enthralling, it made me want to get a bottle of wine and sit down together, maybe look at some of your old prom photos.

Brian just came into my office and asked me if I wanted to play golf tonight. I told him you'd be cool with it because you're... cool like that.

Bad Texts:

That last blog post you wrote about the importance of "talking about our feelings" reminded me that I should tell you that I really hate when you forget to pick up my dry cleaning.

Pick up carryout on the way home.

Compliment her hoodie when you arrive (It's her "nice" one).

Light candles, accompany her to the bedroom, allow her to recline with her favorite magazine while you begin the three hour process of "putting the kids to bed." Alone. ALONE, man! This is no time to wuss out.

Once they are finally asleep and you've dislodged your arm from under their sweaty heads and army crawled out of their bedroom, make your way to your wife for some McLovin.

This is what you've been waiting for bro. The moment you've been preparing for since you woke up this morning.

It's going to be everything you ever dreamed it would be.

Strip off your clothes right outside your bedroom door. Tiptoe inside your room.

Get your rest son, you are going to have to do it all again tomorrow.

How to Make Love...

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...To Your Husband

Do absolutely nothing to encourage him AT ALL from the moment you awake (in yesterday's yoga pants and last night's makeup). Spend the day cleaning yogurt off the walls, fishing library books out from under the couch and dropping ungrateful children off at school-then soccer practice-then piano lessons-then back to soccer practice in your late model minivan. Make time "for you" by eating a hot fudge sundae in the Dairy Queen parking lot in between kid shuttling. Listen to Guns and Roses and channel Panama City Spring Break 1995. Recall that was the last time you actually were willing to wear bikini.

Slop ice cream down the front of your shapeless hoodie. Lick it off and call it good. This is your "dress-up" sweatshirt and it needs to stay nice.

Go through three different drive thru restaurants to satisfy the dinner requests of your four children. Make them eat a yogurt with their french fries to assuage your guilt.

Space out for awhile.

Commence with bedtime routine for children. Four hours later, crawl into your own bed, covered in ice cream, sweat, yogurt, and the shattered remnants of your former life.

Catch a glimpse of your husband, trying to look seductive.

Sigh.

You: I feel like having sex with you, but I am really exhausted. What are the odds that we can pull this off in less than three minutes, both have orgasms and I don't have to take any of my clothes off?

Him: That's the best (ONLY) offer I've had all week. Challenge accepted, mi-lady. Now watch me go.

The End

For more essays on Sex, Relationships and Parenting, head over to Nicole's Blog: momof4istired.com

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