Nothing to See Here…

Every marriage has its currency. And what form that currency takes varies from marriage to marriage. For example, I know plenty of husbands take Golf Currency. They want to hit the links, so they will ‘pay’ their wives in her preferred currency (“Honey? Why don’t you go take a bubble bath and I’ll get the kids fed and ready for bed!”) in order to be able to take all of Saturday morning hitting little balls into holes that are slightly bigger. Obviously, in this scenario, the wife’s currency is time alone and enjoyable baths.

There is a lot of commonality across the types of gender-specific currency. Men seem to like the Golf currency or maybe the Poker Game currency. Some want the A Few Beers with the Guys after Work currency. A big one is the Watching Sports All Day Sunday without Guilt currency.

Likewise, there are themes in the currency women accept, too. Many women love the Shopping Without the Kids currency, or the Maguaritas with my Friends currency. A common currency that women appreciate is the Extra Help Around the House currency.

I, personally, recognize and accept a lot of different currencies. The Romantic Gesture currency is good at the First National Bank of JustLinda. As is the I Did Some Laundry Without Being Asked currency. I like the Here, I’ll Make Dinner and the Do You Want Something to Drink currency, as well. My favorite might be the I Know You’re Too Tired for Sex So Just Let Me Rub Your Back currency.

A transaction, however, is generally given as an unspoken barter rather than a flat out donation. In many marriages, I Did Some Laundry Without Being Asked needs to be repaid with Here I’ll Make Chicken Wings While You Watch the Game and Drink Beer. Likewise, the I’m Playing Poker with the Boys needs to be repaid with Let’s Let Mommy Sleep Late and Go Watch Cartoons.

This marriage thing is HARD.

There is a fundamental problem in my marriage. The ONLY currency my husband takes is the Please Pay Me Back in Sexual Favors currency.

He’s really good at honoring all my preferred currencies – he will do sweeping romantic gestures, he will do extra work around the house, he’ll give me a foot rub, he’ll encourage me to go hang out with my girlfriends, he’ll say “Oh, that dress is SO worth $120.00 – why don’t you buy it?”. Get the picture? He’s a great husband, a wonderful guy.

We’re on an imaginary point system here. When he does those nice things, he earns points. He gets to earn points in a myriad of ways – many of which I already listed above. He gets points because he remembers to call me before big meetings and tell me “I know you’ll knock ‘em dead! Call me right after!” He gets points because he remembers that story about the time I used my dad’s spray wax that was for his truck and I killed all the ants on the sidewalk going through our backyard when I was five and I got spanked. Points for buying me a rose ‘just because’. Points for taking Sarah to the PTO sponsored night at the roller rink so that I could avoid the PTO ladies (shut-up!). Points for dealing with my mom’s computer problems without ever killing her – even once – when I probably could not have pulled off the same amazing display of restraint myself.

See? Many, many points for so much husbandly goodness there aren’t enough hours in the work day for me to blog about all of it.

We don’t have an exact tally of all the points, but if I had to guess, he has somewhere around 193,328,219,465 and a half. Approximately.

On the other hand, I am clearly in the red.

See, the only way I will ever be able to earn points is through sexual performance and sexual favors and anything related to sex. I could let him go golfing eight days a week and I’d get no points. Mostly because he doesn’t play golf and he tells me “I grew up down the block from a golf course and made my childhood living finding golf balls and selling them to golfers. I have absolutely no respect for any man who will pay me for something he already rightfully owns.” So, no golf currency here.

He will occasionally watch sports on TV, but he doesn’t care for them enough to have it be a tradable currency. I could turn into Suzie Homemaker (yeah, right!) hosting the best Super Bowl party in the whole Midwest and it wouldn’t get me any points at all.

Now, if I have a trapeze installed in our bedroom? Big points. If he, by some miracle, achieves the Triple Crown of Marital Sex (don’t ask, I’m not tellin’), well, maybe I could get out of the red, but no, he hasn’t gotten the Triple Crown in a very, very (very!) long time. If I did something kinky that I’ve said NO to for fourteen years straight? BIG points! Wear a pair of 5” CFM thigh high boots? Points. Call him from work and tell him I’m not wearing any underwear beneath my severe grey business suit? Points galore. Middle of the night surprise sex? Points, points, points. Birthday blowjob that takes place ON his actual birthday? Pointfestarama. You get the picture (dirty, sleazy, naked pictures? points!).

But, Internet, how will I ever get out of debt? Is it even possible? Can I hire a hypnotist to turn me into a nymphomaniac? Should I buy him a gallon container full of Ruffies smuggled in from Tijuana so he can have his way with me while I sleep through the whole sordid thing? How many points do you think I’d get for finding him some willing big-breasted love slave to take the 2nd shift while I get some freaking sleep?

Still… if only I could get him to take up golf. He would still get to play with his balls, his club, and penetrate all the holes, but at least I could sit on the couch and watch Oprah while he does it, right?