After being married to Norma for thirty-one years, I still have such sexy dreams about her. This morning I considered waking Norma to finish what my dream Norma had started. Common sense prevailed, however, so I got up quietly, took a cold shower, rolled naked in the snow, did a thousand one-arm pushups, then switched arms and did a thousand more.
I dreamt that my dead mother insisted we have a “serious talk.” It was obvious to her, she said, that I think too much about sex. “Mom,” I blurted out, “you’ve got to be kidding. I’m sixty-nine years old, and you’re lecturing me about sex?”
