Good juice is the orange juice! No, no, not with any water in it! And in the blue cup, the one with the handle! As I attempt, day in, day out, to satisfy the juice drinkers in my care, my mind boggles at the wasted days of single-girldom. Before their father came along to beguile and impregnate me, whole long weekends were spent lying in bed, eating BBQ chips, and watching cable TV! What luxury! Now I have a moment of furtive glee if I linger in the bathroom after a pee.

I function at operational saturation—and yes, readers, you know this story: With one hungry claimant having already booked quality time with the maternal bosoms and my brain full of "1. Buy more apricot jam; 2. Draft annual report; 3. Call tree surgeon," I will admit that "4. Make sweet love" can seem patently ridiculous. I'm exceedingly fond of Mr. Young, but sometimes the last thing that sounds appealing is more intimacy, more hands-on involvement in someone else's needs. And here we are at our question:

Q I walked in on my husband masturbating in the shower. How am I supposed to handle this?

A Well, let's consider the options. You could be grateful: Maybe he has a sex addiction and is too gentlemanly to take it out on you? Maybe you guys are doing it twice nightly, or three times, but he just can't get enough. No?

Then there's the possibility that he no longer wants you. This is the paranoid scenario: He'd rather spend private time contemplating how to help Lindsay Lohan with her daddy issues than force himself to get jiggy with the cow who is his eternal life mate. Before you go down this dark path, ask yourself, "Do I regularly make sexual overtures that are rejected?" If so, take this opportunity to open a line of dialogue about what's happening with your intimacy, etc., etc., etc. But I'm wagering this isn't the issue, either.

My guess is you are still theoretically hot for each other, but both busy and stressed out; that you're not making love as frequently as you used to; and that when you do, it's more often a quickie than a life-altering merging of the souls. Consider that he may just want the occasional tide-me-over orgasm that comes with no strings attached, no requirement to think about how much he loves you and your finicky clitoris.

If that's the case, I suggest you have no reaction at all, except maybe a low wolf whistle and a quick exit. Let the man have some private time, for Chrissakes. So he wanks? Great, have some gin and go get a massage. Or follow his lead and take your own break with forefinger and Clooney daydreams. If you're both feeling loose, you'll probably have more sex, which may bring about a natural cessation of solitary pursuits.