Talk Dirty to Me

     While at the dentist yesterday afternoon, I rummaged through the magazines on the table, trying to get my mind off being there.  In all honesty, the only thing that could take my mind off being in a dentist office is a bottle of Jack Daniels.  Here I was regardless of nerves.  I had a broken molar and it needed to come out!  I decided on a magazine and began flipping through the pages.  I found the Table of Contents and ran my finger down the table to see if there was something short to read before the inevitable.   There were the usuals like advice, recipes, fashion and make up trends, but there was one that caught my eye.  How to make your guy fantasize about you in the bedroom.   My mind began to go a million miles an hour and curiosity got the better of me, so, I turned to page 54 and saw this young hot chick with thick long hair, bedroom eyes and pouty lips, sitting on a bed barely draped by a sheet.  Well, I could fantasize about her too!  The article began with statistics of how often monogamous couples have sex, blah blah blah!  There were 10 suggestions to shake things up in the boudoir.   The first one was take an exotic dance lesson or if there are none available, call your local strip club and have a "professional" teach you how to move seductively.  Oh my I thought,  that will NEVER happen!  The first year my husband and I were married we took ballroom dancing lessons so we could glide across the room, gracefully and effortlessly whenever a dance occasion presented itself.  The Waltz, Tango, the Foxtrot and others were shown to us.  Notice, I said shown NOT taught!  By the time 6 weeks were over, I can honestly say we were worse dancers after than when we first began the lessons!  So, the idea of trying to move in one fluid movement still curdled in my memory!  If I even attempted to try this with my husband someone would get hurt, probably both of us!  I would be trying to gyrate when I was supposed to be swaying, I would fall flat in my bum, my husband would be laughing so hard he would fall off the bed and I would have no choice but to punch him in the nose!  Oh no, this was not for us.  The next idea was  using lengerie.  The last time I wore that I became pregnant!   No, that was totally out of the question!   There had to be something we could try.  Strawberries and chocolates.   OK,  we love these, we could do this!  With a scarf tied around my eyes, my husband is supposed to feed me in a sensual way.  Yea, right!  I have been fed by my husband before after heart surgery, he never makes it to my mouth, it ends up on my chin or cheek, it makes a mess and we both end up frustrated.  Scratch the strawberries and chocolate.  Aha!  Sensuous massage!  Now they were speaking my language.  Oh, I was supposed to massage my husband first.  Well there goes that idea!  He would be sleeping in 5 minutes and the only reward I would get would be snoring.   Who wrote this?  My name was called!  Yikes, was that the Funeral March on the radio?  I sat down, had my needle, as much Nitrous Oxide as I could inhale and had my tooth taken out.  I survived with nothing more to show than a hole in my mouth and blood filled gauze.  Nice!  When I arrived home, my husband was laying on the couch watching hockey highlights.  He took one look at me and laughed.  I was gagging taking the gauze out of my mouth.  I could hear him laughing when I was spitting in the sink.  Bastard!  I rinsed my mouth out and tried to talk to him.  He was laughing harder now.  I couldn't speak very well, I sounded like I was Kramer from that episode of Seinfeld when after having his mouth frozen from the dentist, people thought he was speacial needs.  I sounded the same way!  I decided that if after this, my husband could even look at me without laughing it would be a plus!  So, honey, there will be no exotic dancing, no lengerie or chocolate in the bedroom tonight, but you will have me, fat cheeks,  and if you are really lucky I will whisper in your ear, things I will not do because you can't understand me!