Joseph Savior was cleaning the family room of the four-bedroom colonial, cleaning and waiting for the calm that occurred only at night in their busy home. The odd and relaxing silence that sleeping kids would bring. Oh sure, a few giggling outbursts or requests for water from the children, but then as they drifted off the blessed silence would come.

Mary was upstairs putting the children to bed. Four of them. From ten year old hellion, David, to three year old Beth. With eight year old, Tommy and six year old Faith in between. Four busy kids. While Mary was upstairs with the kids, Joseph straightened up the ground floor of the home. Mary and Joseph alternated the jobs of child-bedder and home-straightener. Putting the Sega away, picking up the books and CDs, clearing the kitchen counters, loading the dishwasher and generally improving the appearance of the home for the morning when the kids would descend and start their day anew. As tomorrow was Saturday, the mayhem would continue all day, Joseph reminded himself ruefully.

Upstairs, Mary was reading Beth a book. Beth was just starting to lose focus on her mother; her blinking eyes taking longer each time to reopen. Mary read the mechanically, putting less character and volume into her voice as Beth started to nod off. Deep down, Mary was wrestling with a large problem. How to tell her husband, Joseph about the URGE. Because THE URGE was upon her. It had started two weeks ago as the tiniest suggestion in her head and built steadily until tonight it captivated her waking moments, bouncing around powerfully in her skull. THE URGE. Mary hoped Joseph would take it well. Not lay too much Catholic guilt on her. THE URGE was impervious to criticism, but Mary was not. Why do I have these thoughts, she asked herself sadly? Why?

As Beth drifted off, Mary closed the book and crept out of the bedroom. In the bathroom, she examined herself in the large half mirror. Mary Savior, wife and mother at thirty-six years. The Classic Soccer Mom. Had the minivan and suburban house. Identified herself first as a mother, second as a wife, third as a lover. Stood five foot nothing in her stocking flat feet; weighed between 125 pounds when she was exercising to 140 pounds when her period was in and she guiltily indulged herself in forbidden sweets and happened to be off her exercise regimen. Shoulder-length blond hair and light blue eyes. Mary would describe herself as average. Just average. Two B cup breasts after the four children; somewhat saggy with traceries of light blue veins; a stomach that pooched out slightly no matter which diet or how hard it was exercised. The bellybutton which frowned downward. The stretch marks, tiny white scars on her tummy and thighs and butt. The marks she bore for her children. Firmly resigned to wearing only one-piece bathing suits to hide her marks. Turning around and looking back over her shoulder, Mary checked to see how her bottom appeared through her work slacks. Oh yeah. The ever-present slight sag of her butt, years ago her best feature. She sighed and left the bathroom. Time to talk with Joseph.......(cont)