Late home from work, kids playing up, not had a shower? So what! You need to have sex within 60 minutes of getting through the front door.
Late last night, my husband returned from a work trip to find me scraping the bottom of a casserole dish. He listed all the ways he was shattered. Then I listed all the ways I was.
“Right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
Gritting our teeth, we plodded upstairs to have sex. This cheered us up so much that we bounded back downstairs and cooked dinner a deux (which we then ate separate rooms, because he had a date with the rugby and I fancied an episode of Veep).
Rewind this scene – take the sex out of the sandwich – and you’d just have two tired people, eating in resentful isolation and fighting for custody of the ketchup (not to mention the remote).
That was us a few years back. My husband travelled a lot with work; I stayed put with the kids. Reunions, when they came, were loaded – and if we didn’t get off on the right foot, it could take days to get back on track.
So we devised the one-hour rule: when he returns from a trip, no matter how fraught, fetid or unwashed we both are, we have to have sex within 60 minutes of him walking through the front door.
It works, because it gives sex a deadline. And deadlines work. Just think of all the things you’ve ticked off your to-do list today. Now think how much more fun you’d have had by striking off ‘client phone call at 7am’ and replacing it with ‘shag’…….