Oh, you've had plenny a honeymoons. Ya have one ever' time you meet a boy.
I used to read all the Dear Abbys and whatnot in the newspapers at my grandmother's house every Sunday, sprawled all over the living room floor (on the carpet so awful it was capable of hiding a dead wasp which stung me when I put my wrist down on it once), and there is one letter & response from sometime around 1986 which haunts me still.
The husband, for once, writes in. He says his wife of 26 years has in the past few months started to wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt to bed instead of nightgowns; in the morning, she hops out of bed early, puts on a bra without taking the sweatshirt off,* and announces some variation of, "Ta-da! Now I'm already dressed!" He says she tells him it's all about convenience and getting a start on her day -- so much to do! so little time for dilly-dallying with the wardrobe! -- but he wonders, plaintively, if she's really just avoiding having sex with him.
Dear Abby replies: "Yes. She's avoiding having sex with you." Like seriously, that's the first line of the response. Flat out. Abby goes on to say all this completely sad and horrifying stuff about how sometimes women just lose interest in sex generally, or have hormonal issues (maybe it's menopause! or cancer!), or perhaps the wife feels old and fat and doesn't think he's really interested so she's heading it off at the pass, but in any case he should try to communicate more with her and get to the heart of the issue. Good advice, to communicate more, but I remember thinking several things at once:
1) Oh god, that's horrible! You can just LOSE INTEREST in sex?
2) Men want sex. Women don't. [this feels wrong but my culture reinforces it and here's Dear Abby saying it so it must be true]
3) Maybe she's just not interested in sex with YOU, ya ever think of that?
4) Ugh, sweatpants. Kill me now if I ever start wearing those.
Anyway. You're welcome, Internets!
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*Every one of you who is a girl who once passed through the seventh grade in a school which required "dressing out" for PE knows how to do this.
Labels: balls in YOUR mouth sir, balls o'clock a.m., deep thoughts, Janice says you're welcome, rando, surprises in the attic
posted by Gleemonex at 10:07 AM
3 Comments:
what is wrong with that? that's how i get dressed everyday- and i usually don't even bother with the bra...
if i wear a matching pajama set to bed (like full-on pants and long sleeved button down shirt), my husband calls this my business suit. and he'll say something like, "oh, i see you've put on your business attire. that must mean i should just roll over and hide in my shame tent." to be clear, a shame tent is what he calls pulling the covers over his head and fake crying when he's pretending to be sad i'm wearing my business suit, even though he's too tired to be much disappointed i'm not in a birthday suit instead anyway. it usually makes both of us laugh even more when someone deliberately farts in the shame tent.
Ha! You know, I wrote this while wearing a blown-out six-year-old pair of lounging pants from the Gap, an ancient black tissue tee (Mossimo, from Target) that has spit-up on the left shoulder, and a nursing bra that has seen better days (and none of those days were ever very sexy). So I ain't judgin.
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