A PSA For PDA

We all want mature adult relationships. But what happens when you inject your connection with a little teen spirit? One writer finds out

- Sara Stillman Berger

K“Kiss me,” Brandon whispered in my ear, his hands cupping my face while Dave Matthews crooned, “You’ve got your ball/You’ve got your chain/Tied to me tight/Tie me up again.” It was one of those magical summer nights, the breeze tickling my skin like the softest touch.

Except I wasn’t in the middle of a dream about my high-school crush. I was at an actual DMB concert, in front of strangers and friends. And it wasn’t the breeze on my skin – it was my husband’s hands. His sudden advance, as sweet as it was, caught me so offguard that I was left in a haze of confusion. Should I be embarrassed by our cuddling or thankful that he still desired me, even after two kids, crow’s feet and 11 years of marriage? And was I awful for not being sure which was more appropriate?