Now is the winter of our overcommitment. What with the gift-wrapping of this and the roasting of that, the transcontinental flights and the sofa beds, and the maddening absence of hard booze at extended family dinners, I know that passionate lovemaking can slide from the top of the to-do list. But ladies, please reconsider. Celibacy is hardly in keeping with the festive spirit of the season, and frankly, it's just poor planning. If you're trying to survive the year-end squall of socializing, sex is the best way to stay jolly.
The coitus that's called for on these busy nights is something merry—you can save the intense eye-gazing and the nasty kink for January, when there's nothing else to do. Keep the mood loose and playful. I've been receiving the most cooperative reception when I put on my fuzzy antlers, sit on Mr. Young's lap, and ask for a big, hard present. But on to our question:
Q I've been with my boyfriend for 10 years. We have two kids, we've gone through good and bad, and there are no secrets left. Lately the intimacy feels like overfamiliarity—what do we do?
A Cohabitation is hard on romantic mystery, so find ways to maintain some privacy, both physically and emotionally. I suggest separate residences, including one for the children and their staff of uniformed nursemaids.
Sadly, economics constrain many of us; if you must live together, do what you can to uphold illusions. Separate bathrooms are one secret to a happy relationship, but if you share facilities, please close the door firmly during toilet activities and callus removal. You can imagine my other advice in this regard: Avoid bending over naked unless your backside is your best side; resist unsightly facial treatments; keep up to date on your depilation and all other essential grooming.
More metaphysically, consider the role that trust is playing in your relationship. Have you lapsed into unnecessary exposure? Mrs. Young is a booster of open communication, but every stray insecurity does not need to become dinnertime conversation. I'm still chagrined that I introduced the term muffin top (back fat was bad enough) to my marital lexicon. Sexual allure depends on the presence of tension, and tension is hard to come by when you know each other's every wart and paranoia.
On the flip side, there are terrific benefits to familiarity that you should definitely exploit. If most teenage sex is hardly conscious (too awkward, too overwrought), and commitment-free sex is way too contrived (Chapter XXIV: Long-Haired Musician Mounts Expedition to Find My Elusive G-spot, Misplaces Hair Clip), sex with the guy whose children you've had offers a delicious freedom: No need for every tumble to be a meaningful signifier of your emotional condition!
