Who knows what goes on in these waters

Who knows what goes on in these waters

I had been divorced for two years when I first hooked up with the man who became my second husband.

(You can read our story here and our wedding announcement here.)

He had been divorced for three.

And in the last ten years, we’ve created a really strong marriage. It’s not perfect. And it’s not always easy. I’m a little stubborn. He can be a little hot-headed. And we have three teenagers between the two of us which, by themselves, can make things challenging. 

Besides being in love, we really like each other. We have fun together, support each other and completely trust each other. We talk about most everything and I really don’t have many any secrets from him.

But even after almost a decade together, he can still surprise me.

Case in point? This conversation we had last weekend on our way to get take-out Greek food. (The food was a huge disappointment.)

The conversation started because we had been talking about a fancy restaurant I went to with a guy I dated before I knew my husband. The guy forgot his credit card and I had to pay for dinner. After I signed my life away, we went to a Circle K and he bought us a six pack of beer. He had enough money for that. From there, we went to the beach. After a few beers, we had sex. Yes, there. In the sand. (Don’t judge me. Yet.)

Thinking about this memory prompted me to ask a question.

Me: Have you ever had sex in the ocean? (Expecting the answer to be no even though he was a lifeguard for years.)

Husband: Yes.

Me: Oh, when you were a lifeguard?

Husband: No. After I got divorced.


Me: With that fat chick that I met in Target?


Husband: No. With the first woman I was with after my divorce. She wasn’t fat. She was really hot.


(Hmm, I thought I knew all of the women he slept with between his ex-wife and me. Good thing I’m pretty secure with myself and in my marriage.)


Me: And you had sex with her in the ocean? During the day?


Husband: Yes.


(Another hmm. Now that he’s older, he has to go to the dermatologist every couple of months to get all sorts of things lasered and carved off his face. Before he turned grey, he was a ginger. So he has fair skin.)

Me: I’m kind of bummed. We never go to the beach together. (We live two miles from the Atlantic.) It’s not fair that I get the old man version of you. (He recently turned 49.)

Husband: We can go. I’ll have sex with you there. 

Me: No. You’ve already done it there with somebody else. (And of course, the next inevitable question.) So, how many women did you sleep with in between your first wife and me? 
(Note to self: Don’t ask questions that you may not want to know the answers to.)

Husband: The ocean girl, the fat chick, the nice girl and the hairdresser. So, just four. 

Me: Well, I only slept with the neighbor, the biker and the British guy. That’s not fair. You’ve one-upped me. But I guess that’s okay because you were divorced for longer before we met.

The conversation stopped because we had to go in to pick up our food.

Walking in, I was kind of eyeballing him, thinking, “He had sex in the ocean? I didn’t know he had it in him. That’s kind of hot.” And instead of being jealous, I was actually a little turned on.

There just might be something wrong with me.