Mommas, do yourselves a favor, throw out those, "spice it up" pieces and top 10 lists. Don't be too concerned about the quantity of the sex you're having as long as your having some.
"Why can't you be more like Christian Grey?" I whined, in the same way my daughter asks things like, "Why you can't be more like Jessie's mom? She keeps ice cream cones in her house."
When I'm uncomfortable I use exaggerated humor to fill conversational gaps. It's like an oddly misplaced stand-up routine which can become painful to watch. This was one of those nights.
Yesterday, while trying to dress my daughter's Barbie in a stunning pair of black and silver lamé jeans, I realized they weren't going over her thighs. WTF? Had she borrowed a pair from Skipper?
Why can't our hubby's be more like Christian Grey? If they were, would we want them? I wonder what they'd be like after a few years of marriage and a couple of children?