Late one night
 

There was this tipsy husband ...

who kinda tip toed up the stairs. He was careful not to step with full weight on boards that might squeek.
Sat down on the top step...removed shoes, socks, britches, etc., and snuck into the bed room.
He eased the sheet back and, considering the circumstances, slid into bed as gently as possible.
Ideas pertaining to bedroom gymnastics began to filter into what brain cells that were still active.

These ideas were followed by tentative exploratory touchy/feely excursions...
They were responded to.

Wind was taken from his sails when the lady replied, " I don't know who you are Big Boy, but please get on with it.

My husband should be staggering home in a few minutes.'