So Your Husband Is No Longer Interested in Having Sex With You…

Lorinda Birdwhistle has a great four-course dinner that will knock his socks off and they’ll land right in the clothes hamper

Hey there girlfriends. I’m back! And I’m ready to give you unfiltered advice on marriage and other topics that shall remain unnamed. FYI, I’m really digging that link button on my blog. Takes a lot of the pressure off, if you catch my drift, plus my page doesn’t get flagged for adult content.

There always seems to be a good reason for Hank to beg off on my suggestion to “go to bed early.” Monday he pulled a groin muscle and needed to sleep in the recliner. Tuesday there was an important playoff game. Wednesday he fell asleep on the couch after “All In With Chris Hayes.” Thursday he needed to run to Home Depot at 9:00 p.m. On Friday he implied it looked like I’d been overdoing it on the peanut M & M’s. And tomorrow? Saturday? The day of the week formerly know as “date night?” The whole family is coming over for dinner. Guess who invited them over? Not me. And take a gander at who gets to clean, cook, make nice and clean again… yep, you’re looking at her. Now guess who’s not getting laid all week, even if I were to take a shower and get rid of that haus frau stank. Fuck.

Me, in the kitchen, as usual.

Fortunately there’s the guest bedroom, which is done up with clean linens and has a nice ceiling fan. And then there’s that deadbolt lock my son put on the door in high school. Relax Lorinda, you’ve got a safe space… with privacy for your “me time,” your affirmations and whatnot.

Believe you me, I will not be needing to take pain meds for that achy hip tonight. FYI girlfriends… the science is in and it’s irrefutable. CLICK THROUGH. I’ve been testing out the theories myself. They are 100% accurate. Don’t make me have to explain this out loud, just click through and start self-medicating.

My friend Salvador from Rodriguez Produce. He is always cheerful and he knows exactly what I need, even though he can’t speak a lick of English.

Also noting this for you gals in town: the farmers market opens at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Much better than church, just saying. And when you pull out your wallet, you actually get something in exchange. What a concept for all you idiot MAGA neighbors. Let’s see… should I give $100 a week to that stupid preacher whose yacht is parked behind the church or should I fill my fridge with organic food? Doesn’t take a genius.

So down to the market I go…  Whoa! That guy from Rodriguez Produce has some impressive (!) cucumbers (and fab gams - he charges nothing for me to check those out). Salvador looks like a really sexy Klingon from the days of Captain Kirk. Smokin’. But he only takes cash. Thankfully Hank left his wallet in the laundry. I’m loaded for bear (or cucumbers, as the case may be).

Back at the house… as I am unpacking the goods from my colorful fair trade African baskets, Hank is wondering out loud why I need that many cucumbers. I remind him they go in the salads, the fruit smoothies, the gazpacho, but I don’t mention the other place they “go.” Yes, Hank, I do need lots of cucumbers (one for every day of the week, you idiot).

Hank last weekend after Green Bay lost to the Bears. There is not enough KY Jelly in the world for this asshole.

At long last, Sunday arrives and it’s time to treat Hank to the special dinner he has grown to expect every week. Even though he hasn’t done a flying fuck for me in months (not even a mow and blow), I don’t want to break his favorite tradition. Divorce means splitting his pension between two households. It’s hard enough making ends meet at this point in my life.

Here’s what I’m trying to wrap my head around… how is it he gets to be “retired” while I have to continue on with the same set of tasks I’ve done for the duration of my marriage? Apparently doing road work for 35 years entitles him to do jackshit for the remaining 35. Add to that no sex and not even offering to dry the dishes after dinner... Mama. Ain’t. Happy. Time to cook a special meal for Hank.

Here’s what I’m thinking for Hank’s cozy Sunday dinner in October: quality food from Petco. I’ll plate everything up on my best set of Mainstay China from Walmart and serve it to Hank in the living room as he relaxes and enjoys NFL Sunday Night Football from the comfort of his recliner. Don’t get up sweetie. Gonna need a mop to clean up all that sarcasm or someone’s going to slip and break a hip.

I start off Hank’s evening with an ice cold 6-pack of Bud Light, served up in his favorite red Solo plastic cup. It’s almost like being at the game, he says, but without the snow flurries. Once he’s tanked, I’ll start bringing out that four course dinner…

First course: Ritz crackers with “paté” and cheese curds

Second course: My special Vaggie Salad (typo intentional / secret recipe below)

Entrée course: Turkey meatloaf dinner with garden vegetables.

I suggest shaping this potted meat food product into a “loaf,” smothering it in ketchup, brown sugar and worcestershire sauce and then baking it at 350° for about an hour. The canned vegetables are a tad gray, so maybe spruce it up with some fresh parsley or dried chives. Trust me. He won’t notice anything is off unless you start snickering.

Dessert: Fudge brownies with “chocolated” Ex-Lax ganache frosting.

Evil brownie disguised as a treat for children.

Buy a box of that Great Value Fudge Brownie Mix from Walmart ($1.24) and follow the instructions on the back. About 10 minutes before the timer goes off, pull the pan out of the oven and cover the top of the brownies with a single layer of the Ex-Lax “chocolates.” These “chocolates” melt nicely and create that irresistible “ganache” topping you’re going for. Once the topping is melted, decorate with festive sprinkles. I suggest serving with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. This will add even more excitement to the evening since Hank is lactose intolerant (but can’t resist ice cream). And since Hank noticed you had gained weight from putting away that “Sharing Size” bag of M & M’s (without sharing), you can forgo dessert without raising suspicion.

If you’re short on time, you could just serve this as a chocolate bar. Hank never wears his readers when he watches football, so he wouldn’t notice that Ex-Lax logo stamped on the chocolate.

Aperitif: Sambuca + “Bowel Flush”

Prestige Sambuca… only $7.68 at Walmart. Save your money for the farmers market!

Sambuca will be the best aperitif, with its unmistakable, overwhelming licorice flavor. Thankfully, Hank is a huge fan of black licorice, so this will be the perfect vehicle for adding in a shot of “Bowel Flush.” An option for those who don’t like black licorice: peppermint schnapps. Any brand will do.

And though this probably goes without saying: you’ll want to keep a plunger right next to the toilet.

Here’s the recipe for my notorious Sunday Night Football Vaggie Salad:

2 large cucumbers / slightly used, skin on (slice thin rounds)

1 bunch of radishes (slice thin rounds)

1 Vidalia onion (peel, cut in half, make thin slivers)

1 pint size basket of cherry tomatoes (slice into halves)

Apple cider vinaigrette:  whisk together ½ cup of olive oil, ¼ cup of apple cider vinegar, 1 tablespoon of Dijon mustard, 2 tablespoons of honey, 1 tablespoon of minced garlic (jarred is great, don’t make too much effort = my motto), salt and pepper.

Toss everything together. That’s a lot salad for two people, but keep in mind it’s probably the only thing you’ll be eating Sunday evening since you’re on a “diet,” lol.

Bon appetit Hank! Go Green Bay Packers!