When I was in my twenties, I dreamt of meeting a new best friend who played the piano like a dream and needed my help in his or her career in order to arrange a swap accompanying for career coaching. We just spent a hundred bucks last Friday. There are always, always, always kids around my husband and me. I feel sorry for me, but more so for my husband, who asks me out for a drink on a lovely Friday night, looks at me across the table and says "You look fantastic, but it's impossible. There's a year-old living here who comes and goes at all hours. I realized as I handed over the money that I had to look back, as seriously and thoughtfully as I could, and evaluate the life choices I had made. Maybe in the future things will change for me, and I can get sex again for free. I wonder what other people in our situation do, because a hundred bucks a pop is steep, especially after years of getting all the sex I wanted for free. And then there's the matter of the hundred bucks. In other words, in the sex department, we are screwed, at least until the kids go back to school. Will they have an Xbox in the hotel? We'll see you in the morning. In the meantime, I try to be patient, water the flowers in the garden and write long poems. Sex is important -- it's fundamental. It's only now, as the kids get older and my ability to have no-cost sex dwindles, that every randy thought or feeling leads to the question, "Do I have a hundred bucks to spend on this? Somewhere along the line, decisions I had made put me in the position of having to fork over a hundred bucks in order to get the skin-to-skin contact that millions of people take for granted.