The one hour sex rule

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’…….

Read the whole article on Telegraph Online
Read some of my other features here


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