The news was not entirely unexpected, but it was still a big blow.
My Husband no longer Wants Sex.
I'd been warned that this might happen. I had been told that certain people might have a problem with My Husband Wanting Sex, and that I should brace myself for the possibility that Sex would be off the menu. But when I got confirmation just the other day, I was bitterly disappointed.
I was on the Central Coast staying with my parents when I heard the news. If I'd been home, no doubt my husband would have tried to console me with sex. But alas, we were apart.
I'm talking, of course, about the title of my forthcoming book. When My Husband Does The Dishes He Wants Sex sadly is no more. Certain large retailers were uncomfortable with the word "Sex" in the title, and the last thing I want to do is bite the (generous, highly intelligent and, may I say, good looking too) hand that feeds me. So there was no choice but to change the title.
As the book is being rushed through for a May release there was little time to think of a new title. I spent an (increasingly drunken) evening with my parents - including a couple of anguished phone calls to my sex-wanting husband and several anguished emails to girlfriends - trying to do just that, and I got exactly nowhere.
"When My Husband Does The Dishes He Wants To Sleep With Me?" suggested a friend.
"When My Husband Does The Dishes I Know Why?" suggested my dad.
"When My Husband Does The Dishes He Wants To Fuck?" suggested my mum. (Nah, I'm joking. That one was me.)
"When My Husband Does The Dishes He Wants To Make Love With A Mature Consensual Adult In The Context Of A Loving Relationship Under The Approving Eyes Of Our Lord"? suggested my husband. Hey, you can't say it doesn't roll off the tongue...
I eventually went to bed and spent more agitated hours trying to find a solution. And then, at about midnight, in a flash, it came to me!
"When My Husband Is Is In The Mood He Does The Dishes!" I texted my friend Lana excitedly.
"No. Sounds like he's in the mood for cleaning" she responded. Oh yeah. i guess I hadn't thought of that.
I went to bed in utter despair. All was lost. My book was a total disaster.
And then at three am, I woke, with the perfect title in my head. I was unbelievably relieved. I wrote it down and slumbered soundly until eight, at which time I looked at the piece of paper and groaned. "When My Husband Does The Dishes, Believe Me, I Know Exactly What's On His Mind" I'd scrawled. Yup. I'd need a cover the size of a fridge just to fit it all in. Had someone slipped me drugs in the middle of the night?
I drank my coffee and ate my toast whilst muttering to myself.
"When My Husband Does The Dishes... When My Husband Does The Dishes... When My Husband Does The Dishes... WHEN MY HUSBAND DOES THE DISHES...!!!"
And then it hit me.
When My Husband Does The Dishes... That's the title of my book.
So there you have it. My Husband no longer Wants Sex. But you can be absolutely positive He's still going to Do The Dishes.
I'm not going to compromise on that.