Dearest C,
It seems that in a rash attempt to buck up the oldballandchain’s spirits on the occasion of this fortieth birthday, I may have inadvertantly offered to engage in the one marital act we have hitherto never tried. Unfortunately, I neglected to include an expiration date on this foolish offer, and now understand what it must feel like to walk around with a death sentence on one’s head. Think of the children! I cry, to no avail. Surely, the introduction of such depraved practices after nearly ten years of upright (and occasionally, upstanding) virtue will eat away at the very moral fiber of this family. Can this marriage be saved?
In desperation, I have even attempted sophistry – something the obc still believes is a fancy name for the piece of furniture you lie on while watching the game – asking what the point is of tasting a bite of the forbidden fruit, when you will never be offered it again? Far better, surely, to stay in the Garden of Eden, where they like to do things the old-fashioned way, plus or minus the odd serpent.
Alas, I fear all my appeals for clemency are doomed to fall on deaf ears. So as someone who is far wiser in the ways of the world, dear C, esp. when it comes to the outrageous demands of our menfolk, I can only ask: will there be any lasting psychological or physical damage?
Faithfully,
P.
