Dear Husband: Don't F*ck With Me When I'm Trying To Sleep
My amazing, kind, intelligent, funny, sexy husband, we need to have a little talk.
Our relationship is based on trust, understanding, and mutual respect. You are the love of my life, the father of my children, and one hell of a babe. With all this in mind, I feel we can have the following conversation without anyone’s feelings getting hurt and move forward in a positive direction, strengthening our bond and our marriage along the way.
Just in case there has been any confusion, or if my swatting you away and hissing, “I literally just fell asleep, dammit!” has been in some way unclear, let me state the situation to you emphatically and with my utmost certainty.
When I put on my pajamas, crawl into bed, turn off the lights, roll over to my side, and pull the blankets up around my chin, the Sexatorium is closed. My vagina is in sleep mode, and if you try to disturb it, all you’re getting is that frustrating low-battery symbol that lets you know that charging is happening and must happen before you can turn me on again.
I am not averse to sex. I love it. I love it with you. But I also love sleep, and I need sleep. Once it is in my sights, there is no turning back. You can dangle a glowing, shiny, explosive orgasm directly in front of my face, and the only reply you will get is “turn that shit off.”
Do not nudge me. Do not poke me. Do not queue up any Barry White on your iPad. I will elbow you right in the nipple. I had my dentist make me a mouth guard specifically to avoid this situation. Putting that monstrosity in my mouth should convey the same message as a neon, blinking motel sign, sparking out before it turns dark.
My day was spent cleaning our house, which was clean before I went to bed last night but somehow managed to look like a frat house by lunch today. It was spent making food for our children and then supplementing my own nutrition with their leftovers over the kitchen sink before we ran out the door, almost definitely late to wherever we were going.
It was spent smelling something foul and then trying to find the source of that smell. It was spent driving to various errands and pickups and drop-offs. I’m sure your day was long and hard and — Oh! Sorry! I know I’m not helping. Sorry.
Anyway, your day had its challenges — I am sure. And I understand and sympathize with that. I’m not saying that because I am tired I can’t have sex, because I am always tired. I don’t want to never have sex. I just don’t want to have sex when I am on the brink of some relief to my ever-growing sleep deficit. You may not know this because you have been gifted with an innate ability to fall asleep before I can locate my pajamas on the bedroom floor, but sex wakes me up.
That PTA mom who makes Wonder Woman look like a lazy slob? I know her secret. Sex at bedtime and Adderall. Girlfriend does not sleep. That’s why her pupils are so dilated. They’re full of secrets. As I am without Adderall, I am sorry to tell you that sex alone cannot sustain that kind of sleepless lifestyle.
Any other time of day, literally any other time, I’m down. Jump in the shower with me in the morning. Baby’s down for a nap? Let’s go. Put on that show that I never let the kids watch because it’s a 23-minute toy commercial, then run to the bedroom and lock the door because we have exactly 23 minutes. GO! Let’s bang it out during any of those or one of the countless other moments in the day when I am not drifting off to sleep.
Even the moment directly before I climb into bed is up for grabs. If after brushing my teeth and examining my pores like I’m going to find a pair of unicorn LuLaRoes in one of them, I come out of the bathroom and you’ve got “Let’s Get It On” blasting out of your iPad, then I say, “Yes! Let’s! Hell, let’s twice.” But that moment is the last of the evening in which the possibility of sex is still on the table.
This is not a rejection, rest assured. This is self-care in its most basic form. I am just trying to get some sleep so I can do everything I did today again tomorrow. But remember, this is not forever. I am not forgetting to put you on tomorrow’s to-do list.
Your adoring, tactful, gentle, delicate, well-rested wife
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