Last night, Primo and I actually went to bed together, a rare event in our house and one that does not help me sleep at all, as I am still, even after four and a half years of marriage, accustomed to going to bed alone and not having someone else's breathing to listen to. I have to swat the cats if they start bathing as I fall asleep - Primo's breathing, which turns quickly into snoring, is not a sleep aid.
But - it is nice to go to bed together because we have a chance to talk without any distractions and usually, Primo does not bring up politics, which is my Least Favorite Subject in the World.
Lots of times, we talk about whatever craziness Sly and Doris are up to, which usually ends well if we focus on the truly inane: how I address an envelope, how I eat bacon, if I sent enough of those Christmas cookies that they didn't even like, how I use cabbage.
Last night, we talked about Sly and sex and Ted. Which produces an image that makes me shudder with disgust. I don't even want to visualize attractive, nice people having sex. I certainly don't want to think about mean drunks. And yet, Sly persists in discussing the subject with Primo, complaining that since Doris broke her wrist or elbow or whatever it was that he has not been getting what is due to him as a husband.
People. The man is 79 years old. Could he give his poor wife a break while her broken bones heal?
This is the conversation Primo and I had.
Primo: You know how on facebook, you can see when one of your friends comments on something, even if you don't know the other person?
Me: Yes. [I think that is a bad feature, by the way, although it does help keep me from going off the deep end by reminding me that nothing I write on facebook is private in any way. That's why I limit my posts to comments about the weather or food. Nothing about my co-workers or other people I know.]
Primo: Ted [Primo's half brother who asked how stupid I was and had I actually met Ted Kennedy when I said that Kennedy had used his political influence to avoid the consequences of having driven a car into the water and left a woman there to die] commented on something a friend of his wrote. Some guy from college and then someone else chimed in who had also gone to the same college. Ted didn't know the commenter, but recognized her name. He asked her who she was and they were bantering - almost flirting! [Ted is married]. She mentioned several other women and Ted wrote, "I never slept with any of them."
Me: He said what?
Primo: That he had never slept with any of these women.
Me: On facebook.
Primo: Yes. In public.
Me: Wow. That's so crude.
Primo: He gets it from my dad. My dad is always telling me how he's not getting enough and telling me about his cialis --
Me: How much is enough?
Primo: He says they do it three times a week.
Me: I don't believe that.
Primo: That's more than we do it.
Me: We both have jobs. Your parents don't do anything but drink. Which is one of the reasons I don't believe that three times a week. Alcohol is not an aid to this kind of thing.
Primo: That's what he tells me. And he always tells me about all the women who used to come on to him when he was still teaching.
Me: Yeah, right.
Primo: That's what he says. That's never happened to me.
Me: You are much more of a hottie than your dad ever was and you are a nice person, besides. You do not give off the "Of course I would cheat on my wife" vibe. Maybe your dad did. Besides, you have never had the power to change someone's grade. Maybe - if all these passes really happened - that's why. They were students who didn't like their grade.
Me: I cannot believe he talks like that to you.
Primo: I guess I come from a long line of hypersexual men.
Me: No, you come from a long line of men who have no boundaries and no sense of propriety. I am glad that you did not inherit those qualities. You are not like your dad, you know. [Thank God.]