It was 11:45 p.m. on a Wednesday night. My wife and I were exhausted and cozied up in bed together. We both had one thing on our minds. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same thing. I was craving sex and she was craving the season three finale of "Friday Night Lights." We were at a standstill, experiencing what some might call a "21st century marital pickle." It seems Netflix and sites like Hulu just might be the modern couple's greatest obstacles to a steady sex life. The continuous supply of great TV is so accessible and so compelling, many a good couple become hooked like crackheads and forget about making their own entertainment. Through burning eyes and next day regret, couples machete through a season of "Lost" or "The Wire," ignoring or forgetting to fuel their loins. But on this night, something in me snapped and I drew a line in the sand … with my penis. "Babe," I said, "we're in a losing battle against awesome TV. It will never end. There are too many TV shows out there; when do we get to do it?" The Frisky: Sex With Steph: My Boyfriend Has A Low Sex Drive
My wife took in what I was saying. She looked at me, looked at our alarm clock and sighed. She turned toward the computer screen and slowly back at me. "But, don't you want to see what college Lyla Garrity winds up going to?"
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"Ah crap!" I said. She was right. I did want to know. In fact, it felt more like I needed to know. Lyla worked her tail off to get into Vanderbilt and now her dad wipes out her college fund on a hair-brained business deal and she's forced to go to San Antonio State?!
I began losing my libido to a flood of questions. Could Lyla truly thrive at State? Would it be academically challenging enough? Would Tim Riggins bring her down or could Mrs. Taylor find a third way to solve all this? I was no longer in my bedroom in Brooklyn. I was deep in Dillon, Texas. Focus Wehle! I collected myself. " I got it," I declared with pride to my wife. "Let's merge."