I don’t know how long it’s been since Henry and I have had sex.
It might’ve been a week ago, but I suspect it’s longer. It’s definitely happened since last new years. I think.
Blame it on Christmas and all that entails. Blame it on the bout of flu and colds with their attendant mucous. Blame it on the belly fat. (Who knew a chocolate Yule log could be so fattening?). Blame it on our two indefatigably present cock-blocking children who are not in school for THE NEXT THREE WEEKS! Blame it on fucking Rio.
Bottom line, we’re not doing the Horizontal Mambo.
You’ll be relieved (or indifferent) to know that measures have been taken.
Next Sunday, at exactly oh-eleven hundred hours until fifteen hundred hours by the yard-arm, our children will be OUT OF THE HOUSE.
That’s right. We’re not having a Date Night Out. Henry and I are having a Date Day In!
Because the last time we had sex on a date night out was in our SUV on the roof of the parking structure at The Grove, an over-priced mall off Fairfax and Wilshire.
It was Henry, me and three other cars parked up there at 10 p.m. on a Sunday night and I spent most of our woman-on-top interlude craning my neck around to see if anyone was watching.
And let me tell you. No one was watching. I know because I was too busy watching them. Even though they didn’t exist. Which makes for highly un-sexy sex.
The five bonuses to a Date Day In:
- You’re not too tired for foreplay. If you can remember what that is.
- You can actually see your partner as you make love in broad daylight. (Or you can use black out curtains so you don’t have to see each other. Dealer’s choice.)
- You can yell as loud as you want and no one will hear, except maybe the neighbors who will think you’re simply doing flying yoga. Which is actually insulting since you look like two sex machines.
- You can nap after your tryst without the stick-shift cranking your neck.
- Finally. And most importantly. The food and wine are free.
Also, hopefully your sitter takes the kids to the race track where they’ll bet on Hibiscus Flower, who carries a three-point handicap or whatever it is, and said horse will come from behind and break away from the pack for the win! Allowing your children to actually pay for your Date Day In.
I’d love to hear about your unexpected, inspired, ill-advised, embarrassing trysts because I need some fresh ideas. Onward, ho!
Shannon Bradley-Colleary
Shannon Bradley-Colleary blogs at The Woman Formerly Known As Beautiful. She's also a contributing blogger on The Huffington Post. Her posts have landed her on The Today Show, NPR, CNN, Raising America with Kyra Phillips, Fox11News and more. She's been published in The DailyMail Online, Babble, Blogher and MomsLA. Her book, Into The Child: 40 Weeks in the Gestational Wilderness was named one of the Top 100 Indie Books of 2012 by the Kirkus Review. Her book, Smash, Crash and Burn: Tales From The Edge Of Celebrity, details her life as an L.A. Wacktress (waiter/actress) in the early 90s; including her relationship with Brandon Bruce Lee and a her tête-à-tête with David Schwimmer. She kisses and tells. Shannon is thrilled to be a monthly columnist on Midlife Boulevard.
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