Let me begin by saying I have a wonderful, thoughtful, kind and considerate, husband whom I adore. I am a woman pushing sixty with a few health problems, and my dear husband asks me how I feel every single day.
A while ago I noticed there were certain days when he asked how I was feeling four or five times in the space of an hour. Initially this perplexed me, but I eventually figured it out. He was looking for romance, and he was boxing me –in- very cagey. How could I turn him down, if I had said I was fine no less than four times in fifty three minutes? His mama didn’t raise any dummies.
On one recent morning at the breakfast table he began his consecutive, solicitous inquiries, but I was ready for him. After replying that I actually felt quite well, I turned the tables on him. I asked how he felt, how well he slept, and how was his energy level. He gave very positive responses to all my questions, so I took it to the next level. Reaching across the table I touched his hand and asked if he was in the mood to “get busy”, followed by a wink.
This stunned him speechless, but he nodded ‘yes’ so energetically that he looked like our Hank Aaron bobble-head. Pushing the dishes aside, I lunged across the table, took his face in my hands, and looked deeply into his eyes.
“Could I interest you in some strenuous physical activity with me, right here, right now?” I asked.
Gratefully he replied, “Bring it on, baby”.
I said, “Good, I’ll get the mop, you grab the vacuum cleaner”.
My mamma didn’t raise any dummies either.