D. Barbara McWhite grew up in York County, S.C., and lives in Orange Park, Fla., with her husband and cat. Her column is published here each Tuesday. Opinions expressed are solely her own.

I watched the last two games of the World Series with my husband last week. Game six was a spectacular show.

While I am not a real sports fan, I was completely caught up in the nail-biting excitement as the Cardinals stole what could have been the series-winning game from the Texas Rangers. My husband, a loyal Texas fan, was devastated the way only a man who probably bet his whole paycheck can be. I was just along for the ride.

Having lived through the trauma and excitement of that thrilling game, I decided that I would prepare some food and have a romantic-bonding-just-for-two party for game seven the following night.

It isn't often that Mike and I can meet in the middle in our TV viewing. He usually retires to his man cave to watch dirty shows on the Discovery Channel, shows like American Loggers, Ice Road Truckers, Modern Marvels and Dirty Jobs. I, on the other hand, prefer HG-TV and the Lifetime Channel, showing movies about how to kill you husband and get away with it.

On this day, however, I was going to be a real woman, be with my man as his team defeated the offending Cardinals. So a few meatballs, chicken wings, deviled eggs, French bread and fresh veggies later, we took our places as the game began.

I wish I could report that game seven was thrilling. It wasn't.

I wish I could report that the Rangers won. They didn't.

But I can report that our party was exactly what we needed. After a long hard work week and life’s many interruptions, we were finally alone together.

And, please, don't be jealous when I confess that we…well,… slept together. It was wonderful.

He in his recliner, I on the couch. Ever so often one of us would rouse up long enough to announce the score; the other would grunt and we would fall back to sleep.

My sister suggested that we should have invited another couple over.

The idea of sleeping with another couple…that's just a bit too kinky for us.

Besides, who needs another couple to share such intimacy? Great meal. Shared sports. Alone time. Then to top it off, we slept together.

That's my story. I'm stickin' to it.

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