A lot can happen in 72 hours.
Leftovers start to smell and so do house guests. Apollo 11 reached the moon in 72 hours. One more thing happens every three days.
Every three days, men’s sex clock rings.
“Honey, feeling up to some fun tonight?” asks my husband.
“Maybe,” I answer, glancing up at the clock, it’s only 9am and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and am still in my bathrobe.
“Really?” he asks, with hope in his eye.
“Shurrs,” I answer as I start to brush my teeth.
I am consumed with the start of my day and haven’t even thought about what will happen tonight. I don’t even know if I will be in the mood later that night, but my husband is in the mood and will be for the rest of the day. In fact he will build it up in his head and think about it all…day…long.
After many years of marriage between us that is reaching my inability to count just using my toes and fingers; I would think my husband would get bored about the whole sex thing. Guess again. He has an internal clock so precise it probably is linked with some cosmic time piece. Every 72 hours a man needs sex. Their bodies have a built in alarm that begins to beep at the 72 hour mark and after a while the snooze button doesn’t work anymore.
After brushing my teeth, I look at the calendar and realize it’s been about 3 days since our last “encounter”. I remember that encounter because it happened after a night of listening to 80’s music. We were both thrown back into our youth and well, things went from there. I continue to glance at the calendar and smile…he is on time with his body clock.
I contemplate his sexual clock. He tells me it is a physical and emotional thing his mind and body needs, he just “feels” it. I assume it is like my body needing chocolate every so often or more than eight hours of sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I love having sex with my husband. It’s just my body doesn’t start beeping as soon as his does.
Another 3 days go by…
“Honey,” he says raising his eyebrows. “You are looking awfully cute in your tank top.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Looks like the three day mark is here, as I glance at my watch to verify the date. I smile and give him a wink which is his glimmer of hope and should keep him for a few more hours. I don’t know what will happen later on in the day or night, but I have come to accept and look forward to his sexual body clock every 72 hours. That clock lets me know I am still attractive to my husband even after many years of marriage and reminds me that even among the madness of being a woman and navigator of a family that I can rely on his alarm clock to “wake” my body clock up once in a while.