Splitsider: Letter to My Husband as He Tries to French Kiss Me

splitsider logoDear Sweetheart,

Gosh, it’s been a long day, hasn’t it? I’m beat. If I closed my eyes right now, I’d fall into Stage 4 sleep and stay there until someone shook me so violently that I’d wake up and say something crazy in a panic-stricken voice like, “Where are the elbow pipettes?”

Let me say that it’s so great to know that you’re still attracted to me. It makes all the hours we spend guessing which of our couple friends still have good sex even more entertaining. Remember when we started dating and you used to spontaneously massage the arches of my feet because you claimed you enjoyed it? In those days I’d say things to myself like, “The guy’s a total romantic,” and this completely short-sighted and self-serving assessment really helped trick me into a monogamous relationship. And now here we are! And at no extra cost, here’s your tongue, too!

You sure do like to French kiss, don’t you? Swollen glands, work deadlines, nausea—nothing deters you from this fun activity. You’re single-minded like a microbiologist examining mouse mammary glands over and over and over because you’re sure that it will either cure cancer or help produce an acetate that will revolutionize the way we produce lipstick.

It reminds me of that time years ago when we were at a party and the woman with the boobs was so amused by your joke that she had to put her hand on your chest to hold herself up while she laughed. And then afterwards when I protested that you were flirting, you dismissed my concerns as paranoid and a second later you were French kissing me and all I could feel was bitterness about those early foot massages because when we moved in together, you abandoned them to become a cybernetically-enhanced supersoldier battling aliens while attempting to uncover the secrets of Halo.

Anyway, all that’s behind us now because the woman with the boobs moved to Lisbon for some ill-conceived reason and we got married, didn’t we? And what a kiss that was under the chuppah! Wasn’t the Rabbi surprised! I’ve never seen that shade of red on a human being before, and that includes the sunburned Danish couple we met in Marbella. Read More

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