Honestly, You Couldn't Make It Up!
A sense of humour helps the wheels of a marriage spin
CW: Mild references to menopause and intimacy
“Have you turned the heating up, Reg?”
“No, Marge, it’s on eighteen, same as always.”
Marge’s voice drifted through from her study, where she’d been marking schoolbooks for the last two hours. Reg fiddled with the collar of his shirt. It did feel rather hot indoors, with the windows closed and the curtains drawn.
He had to make allowances for Marge: Since she’d started on HRT, she felt the cold much more easily, but on other occasions, she would throw open windows or shrug off her cardigan and fan her face madly. It became their little joke:
She’d say: “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”
Mostly the answer was, “It’s just you Marge.”
Reg was glad their sex life hadn’t suffered the way some of his friends hinted theirs had. Marge would still snuggle up to him in bed, teasing her chilly toes between his shins, using one leg to part his. She would throw an arm over his hip, reaching down to cup him with a tender hand, warm but firm, her signal that she wanted to be intimate, which he’d welcome with a rush of desire.
It was true, sometimes, they needed a squirt of lubricating gel to help things along and that they no longer reached ‘le petit mort’ in unison, but they found pleasure. They had fun. Marge and Reg knew each other’s bodies and minds so well that they could always find affection in small gestures and little jokes.
Quickly, Reg kicked off his slippers and shucked his slacks down his legs. He unbuttoned his shirt and then, in just his Jockey underpants, lay along the cushions of the sofa as if he was basking on a sun lounger.
“I think I deserve a little glass of sherry, how about you Reg?”
Marge often began talking before she entered the room. Now, seeing Reg’s semi-naked state, she stopped in her tracks.
“What on earth are you doing?” she almost squawked.
“It’s quite tropical in here, I think I’ll have a Pimms,” Reg answered airily, managing to keep his face straight.
Marge was torn, wanting to be angry, but wanting to giggle too. In the end, the laughter won, and she ended up with tears running down her face.
“You’re such a fool Reg,” she scolded, dabbing at her cheeks, “but please don’t ever change.”
This story evolved from a real anecdote - my father was quite the joker!
I just LOVED this! Getting older changes things for sure, but laughter and compassion sure make it easier.