Sex and Candy for Valentine's Day

Each Valentine’s Day, I am reminded of jellybeans in a jar: “Before you get married, put a jellybean in a jar each time you do it. After you’re married, take one out each time. You’ll never empty that jar.”

My husband and I had one hell of a candy shop before we got married! There were jars and jars of jellybeans. Sweet, sweet, carefree jellybeans. Naughty, naughty nipple pink, green as grass, grabbing my ass jellybeans, soft porn, sexed-up, '60s sunset orange and rude, racy rush of blood, red boudoir curtain jellybeans. There were jellybeans in the car, in the wardrobe, behind the sofa, and on the beach. Jellybeans were abundant. The jars were overflowing. There was an imminent threat of diabetes.

Then we got married.

A good number of jellybeans made their way out of the jar in the first year and even the second. In fact, the retrieval rate was really rather good.

Then I fell pregnant.

Surprisingly, there were substantial sugar cravings at this time and the jar continued to empty, albeit at a more leisurely pace, until we found ourselves with two children, a mortgage, and a pair of full time jobs.

Then something happened to our candy shop.

Quietly, imperceptibly, business slowed down. It didn’t stop all at once. We were so busy and so tired that it was hardly noticeable at first. There was always an excuse, and each was genuine. “My back aches,” “I’m so tired,” “Just wait till later,” “There’s all this work to mark,” and “I’ve got a headache” - and I really did!

Amidst the burgeoning duties of parenthood and home management, work demands and mortgages, the delicious treats we had once stolen together at any opportunity become my hard bargaining chips. I was tired and so I handed each out carefully, meted them out as rewards, favours, even trading them as currency.

“No, not before dinner,” “You’ve had enough already,” “I’ve already given you two” and “All right then, but this is the last time.”

Five years of distraction and my husband sounded the alarm bell. He’d had enough! What the hell was going on with the jellybeans? Where were they and why wasn’t he getting any? It was scary. It was sad. I had to admit there was a recession and the candy was on hold.

Article Author: Claire Carroll

Claire Carroll is The Domestic Minx. Decadent, delicious and entirely capable of whipping up a domestic disaster in seconds.

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