Dr's Orders

I love my psychiatrist. He gets me. He's a tall, fat, balding older man who has seen and heard everything, and nothing I say or think could ever surprise him. He literally yawns at least 10 times during out sessions. Which only last about 15 minutes.
During the last visit he asked about my marriage, and I mentioned that, like all couples married for more than 23 days the romance was a bit lacking. Our sex life is wonderful, our child is wonderful, our life is wonderful. But I said I'd like to be wooed every now and then. He laughed. And then he gave me advice:
Dr. Y "Well, every marriage is different. Men, in general, are not big into romance. They're visual. But, if you give him a bit more of what he wants, odds are he'll be more willing to give you what you need."
Me "Okay."
Dr. Y "Some couples have a night where one goes to the male strip bar, and the other goes to the tittie bar. (yes, my highly respected, expert-in-his-field doctor said tittie. I'm blushing just writing the word, and I'm sure my mom is, too). It's imperative to have boundaries, but that can spice things up a bit."
Me "Ummm. Yeah. that's not gonna happen. No way do I want my husband looking at perfect women and then coming home to me."
Dr. Y "Well, that kind of thing isn't for everyone. What about a trip together to that store, Banana Boat?"
Me "Ummm, yeah. I'm thinking you mean the Pink Banana? You've met my husband. He's a redneck, remember? Not really his kind of place."
Dr. Y "Understandable. What about spontaneity? Pop in a movie for the kid and invite him into the shower."
Me "Okay. That may actually be do-able. I'll give that one a try. Thanks for the advice. And can we never talk about tits again? I think my cheeks are going to catch fire."

So...tonight was the night. Juni was watching Tom and Jerry. I'm taking a shower, and Jasen pops his head in to see how long I was going to be.
Me "Not much longer. Wanna join me?" Jasen "Are you serious? Hell yeah!" It's not like this is the first co-shower we've taken. But since we've have a child, things change.
He tried to get out of his boots and pants so fast he almost fell on the bathroom floor and broke his nose. After what happened next, that may have been the better route. He gets in the shower, wets his hair, and then blows his nose. In his hands. You may need read that again. He BLEW HIS NOSE. IN HIS HANDS.
Let me make this perfectly clear. Jasen blowing his nose sounds like a goose being goosed. And showers echo. There are literally snot rockets flying through the air, landing on the tile. Dripping from his fingers. And I'm sure in my hair. And he's smiling. Proud and what his nose has produced, I'm sure.
I say "are you friggin kidding me? What the hell, man? This is supposed to be sexy! And you're friggin snotting on me? Seriously. If you ever do that again...I don't even know what I'll do. Vomit, probably."
He replies "But babe, that's what I do in the shower! I have to clean out both sides." "Yes, honey, I realize this. I have to scrape your buggers off of the tiles every morning. Thanks for that, by the way. But don't you think it's possible to break the routine for one night? I mean, seriously, honey. Snot in the shower? Really? I'm a woman. not a tissue."
Before I can finish my thought, he's emptying the other nostril. Snot rockets abound. I'm dumbfounded. And pissed. "Okay. Seriously, Jasen. What the hell is wrong with you?"
I was dried and dressed 39 seconds later. Spontaneity my ass.