God, I personally don't like the word \”date night\” and I was pretty sure there wasn't a lamer phrase inside a relationship until I just read this article about one couple's \”trash night.\” Trash night, the thing is it's time, twice a week (Mondays and Thursdays), when Therese Borchard has sex with her husband. It also happens to be the night time the pair takes their garbage towards the curb, literally. Therese didn't plan it this way, but tired of her husband's \”constant begging for sex,\” she asked him: \”What may be the minimal number of times a week that you'll require sex in order to be satisfied?\” He informed her: \”Twice. Absolute minimum.\” And she replied: \”Fine. You get Monday and Thursday. If you don't beg any other night.\” It was only later than it occurred to her that Mondays and Thursdays are actually trash night in their neighborhood, the night everyone hauls their garbage towards the curb of all time collected at 5 a.m. the following morning.

Therese explains that trash night, because it relates to her love life, might be, on her, \”just the beginning of an effort to figure out this male species I accept. Whether it's a twice weekly opportunity to express my commitment, love, and devotion inside a language he speaks.\” For how long do males speak sex and ladies speak something else? Is trash night such as the male version of date night? Has everyone gone bonkers? Is this just what married life is? Is that this WHAT I Need to Anticipate Like a MARRIED WOMAN NOW? Someone please let me know it isn't. Please tell me that marriage is more than a number of scheduled interludes where a couple struggles to talk a language they just do not understand. And please tell me the word what of affection isn't something one begins to lose fluency in the minute the wedding license is signed. And even if it is, you need to admit, \”date night\” and \”trash night\” are lame terms in whatever language one happens to talk.