Sex Begins In The Kitchen

by Kevin Leman

My wife, Sande, is a five-forker. She loves those restaurants that give you five forks. I myself prefer one fork, and if it’s plastic, all the better. Sande loves to give her friends gis with potpourri. I don’t. I like the Waffle House. She doesn’t. Sande loves to have her nails and hair done. I prefer to do my nails at a red light with my front teeth in ten seconds or less. As far as my hair goes, I enjoy putting a baseball cap over it. My wife thinks nothing of going potty in groups of two, eight, twelve, or fourteen. If there’s one thing I prefer to do by myself behind a door bolted in four places, it’s going potty. She likes “sharing”; I like three-word sentences. What I’ve learned and what you’ll learn by reading Sex Begins in the Kitchen is that we can be different; we can do different things together and still work toward becoming one as husband and wife.