Lucky 13

It's our anniversary. Not sure which adjectives to associate with our having reached another one -- bizarre, surprising, promising, stifling, miraculous, deluded, encouraging, resigned, stupid, exceptional, hopeful and others come to mind, at varying levels of intensity and stickiness. But at this moment, choose from primarily the positives among them. I bought my wife a necklace from the Sundance Catalog, and enjoyed focusing strictly on what I thought she would like, rather than what I would like to see her wear. Must have worked, because she was delighted.

At her suggestion, we combined an overnighter up one of the canyons with a convention for the latest MLM she's embraced (her fourth or fifth since we've been married). Capitalism, Mormon zeal, and pent-up housewives with no remunerative outlet for their talents and white-knuckled fear of being dependent on their husbands' incomes, is an unquestionably volatile mix, and I couldn't tolerate being in any of the revival meetings. One presentation was literally lifted directly from Alma 32 (with "growing faith" replaced with "building the business" and some identities changed to protect the innocent), and another invited those present to close their eyes for a moment and "focus on [name of one of the MLM's executives who had just addressed us]...picture him in your mind...feel the challenges he's faced from detractors...know of his kindness, his dedication to this great effort and how dearly he wants each and every one of you to succeed and change your lives and the lives of those with whom you share this..." I'm not exaggerating.

Having beheld a few of those pearls, I helped her to understand that it would be best for all involved were I to be exempt from the MLM agenda and just do my own thing while she participated. She'd ping me when she was free, and we'd get together. It worked out really well and we got along great. In fact, to steer things, as you've come to expect, back to The Carnal, I'd covertly sneaked into her bag two bra/panty sets (one lacy and blue, the other black and sheer) that had seen far too little action in...well, in as long as I can remember, and she was game to give each a go. It was the first time since early December that I'd "seen her" en boudoir in any sort of light, and noticed that a bit of a paunch is for the most part all that remains from her pregnancy with #4, born last winter. Of her own volition (absolutely zero spoken or unspoken provocation on my part, trust me), she's begun to express growing dismay that her breasts have, as she says, disappeared ("I could use [#1]'s training bra!") and has on several occasions mentioned getting implants, "just to get me back to what they were before I started nursing." This may, understandably, shock you, but I honestly don't know how I'd feel about that. Well, physically I can assume how I'd feel about it physically, but I'm not sure there's room enough in this home for two Utah clichés: The sex-starved "Priesthood holder," and now his silicated spouse.