The Best Night of Your Life Awaits
It’s time to jump-start the dead battery, revive the ailing engine, and rev up your sex life to full throttle. I promise it’ll be fun!
My bride is a classy woman. She loves five-fork restaurants, but in a pinch she will gladly enjoy a three-forker. She loves all those little forks. I hate them . . . with a passion. At most I’m a one-fork guy, and if it’s plastic and I can throw it out without doing the dishes, all the better. In fact, I’m even happier with barbecued ribs at a Western joint where you can eat with your fingers and lick them.
But I want to be a good husband. I want to please my bride, and she likes beautiful presentation—the nice evenings out with all the little forks that drive me up the wall. So where do I take her? To the five-forker. By now I’ve been schooled at what to do. I take a look at the place setting and know I’m supposed to start from the outside fork and work my way in. So I do that, and most of the time I end up with the right fork for the right course.
Well, when our kids were young, I could tell my bride needed one of those classy evenings out, just the two of us. But she needed something more too, and I knew just what I had to do.
So I took her to a nice five-forker, and we had a leisurely dinner. Afterward I drove her to a resort hotel. She gave me “the look.” If you’re a man, you know the look I mean. It says, “What on earth are you up to? There is no way I’m going to like it.”
“Leemey, what are we doing here?” she asked in the uppity tone that earned her the nickname Mrs. Uppington.
“We’re going to go into the hotel,” I said calmly.
She crossed her arms and gave me her best firstborn scowl. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but I am not getting out of the car. I don’t have any luggage. I’m not going in there.” She crossed her arms with a little hmmmfft for extra measure.
I’d call that an uncooperative spirit.
I got out of the car and walked around to open her door like the gentleman I am.
But she’d locked the door. I sighed to myself, since I had the car key. I unlocked the door and literally lifted her up out of the car. “C’mon, we’re going in there.”
Gentlemen, you’ll really understand what I say next. Volumes can be spoken with body language. My bride stalked toward the hotel with a fiery determination. Translated, that meant, “Okay, I’m going to go, but you are not going to have any fun.”
She marched up to the front entrance, but I tugged her toward a different door. “No, not that way, this way.”
She scowled at me again, then her eyes widened. She saw a room key in my hand.
I let us into the hotel, walked with her down the hallway, and swiped the room card. We entered the room, and she gasped. There on the big bed were two books I’d purchased for her, as well as three sweetheart roses, symbolizing the three children we had at the time. You see, I’d sneaked in there earlier that day so it was all set up for her. I had even ordered room service—triple chocolate cake and a fresh pot of coffee. Two things I know she loves.
Yes, it was 10:30 at night, folks.
Some of you are saying, “Well, I hope the coffee was decaf.”
Nope, it was regular. That’s because I know my wife’s a raccoon—she’s up half the night. If she had her way, an early start to her day would be 1:00 in the afternoon. So it’s no wonder she was sleep deprived with three young children who were on a completely different schedule.
And then I did one of the manliest things I’ve ever done. I told her, “Honey, I’ll be back at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon to take you to a late breakfast.” Then I left.
That room had a king-sized bed, and I could picture my wife reclining on top of it. It was an incredible opportunity for us to be together, to have out-of-this-world sex, but I passed on that.
Why? Because I had learned something very important as a husband. You have to do those kinds of things for your wife—gestures that make her feel loved and appreciated for who she is—not simply for the sex she can give you.
My wife needed to be by herself that night. She needed to regroup. She needed a time-out from the voices of the children she dearly loved. She needed to get lost in a good novel or two. And because I knew what she needed and I had her best in mind for the long term, I sacrificed what I would have loved in the present—wild, passionate sex with the woman I love. The woman I want to share every bit of my life with.
Seeing the world behind each other’s eyes is why, even in our later years, my bride and I still experience sexual ecstasy. We had two more children after the three we had when I took her to that hotel. In fact, the last one we conceived when Sande was 48 and I was 50. So don’t ever let anybody tell you that you can’t have great sex once you pass midlife. That’s simply not true.
But that kind of sexual intimacy is only possible when you declare with little gestures throughout the day, “You’re important to me—not only in a sexual or intimate way but because no one means more to me than you. I want to make your life pleasurable. I want to be by your side until the end of our days.”
That means, gentlemen, you step up to the plate and be a leader in a servant-hearted, loving way. You get behind your wife’s eyes and see how she views and experiences life. You make it your mission to know your bride and carry out the small things that make her feel loved, protected, and cared for.
Ladies, that means you realize every day how much your husband needs to be needed and wanted—by you. He craves your respect in his unique role in your home, and he desires to be sexually fulfilled. The words you use make a tremendous difference in your marriage, especially because you have a masterful flow of language and his words are few.
When you put each other’s needs first, make each other feel special, and prioritize your time as a couple—yes, even with kids in the mix—you’ll be surprised at how sensual and exciting sex can be. You’ll be more open to experimentation. Sex and marital intimacy will satisfy both of you and draw your hearts together, and you’ll want more.
Every time I return from a speaking trip, the first face I want to see is my beaming bride’s. I want to rush into her arms and reconnect physically. We call and text in between, but neither is the same as being with her in person.
Just as I know what Sande needs, she also knows the desires of my heart and that, as a baby of the family, I crave surprises. One birthday she shocked me with an amazing present she’d been saving for—a black 1950 Ford 50. Not only is it a classic, which I greatly appreciate, but it’s also the make and model of the first car I ever owned, and thus just looking at it floods me with wonderful memories. Even more, Sande herself had taken the time to carefully research and find the car.
Our marriage is now 40-plus years old, but it’s like that classic car—worth far more because of the time that’s been invested in its upkeep, the engine parts that have been tweaked along the way, and the love that’s kept the motor purring along in satisfaction.
Right now is your time to craft your marriage into a classic car that stands the test of time. It’s time to jump-start the dead battery, revive the ailing engine, and rev up your sex life and marital intimacy to full throttle.
In fact, I hope you’re giving each other the Bullwinkle the Moose look right now as you finish this book. As my best friend says, “It’s not great sex unless you have to take a shower afterward.”
And you can sure make that shower fun too.