Seasoned as in 17 years of cohabitation.
Toss in three children, two jobs (one in real estate, good God!), one deaf-blind incontinent 15-year old dog whose food and dignity are constantly being stolen from him by the treat-stealing, humping Satan's Familiar, the 96-year old house with its Repair Menu -- well, that well-seasoned marriage is simmering in about 15 complex and sometimes, downright uncomplimentary, marinades, simultaneously.
Because she teaches an 8:30-12:30 Saturday morning class that has only 6 students ( although 6 is better when it comes to the grading, actual classroom song and dance requires massive energy on the Matron's part, keeping this bunch awake and engaged long enough to discuss the art of The Short Story for FOUR HOURS), the Matron went to bed early last night. Early being midnight -- and with Scarlett as her bed partner, given that her daughter had recently arrived home from the theater, tired and in need of Maternal Cuddle. So bestowed.
John, in the meantime, stayed up until nearly 2 am watching Oprah!
Today, driving together in the van, the following conversation ensued. Children are in the back, listening to music.
John: "Wow. That Oprah show is kind of amazing. Lots of really intense stuff. You should watch it."
Matron: "At 4 pm on a weekday or the middle of the night?"
John: "I couldn't believe they were so frank -- used the language they did. The whole show was about sex in long-term marriages. How to keep the love flowing. But they were very anatomical. Just amazing that you can do this on TV."
Matron: "Hmmmmmm. Oprah can do anything she wants. She owns TV."
John: "One thing that really struck me was how that housework is like an aphrodisiac. An afternoon of household chores -- vacuuming and that kind of stuff -- is like an afternoon of foreplay. All those wives on the show swore that was so."
Matron (considering 4 hour foreplay or 4 hours of husband cleaning house -- you all know her answer): "True."
Scroll forward to this very moment. It's 6:22 pm on a Saturday night.
Guess who's downstairs mopping the kitchen floor--with dinner in the oven and a deep cleaning foam on some stained carpets-- as she types?