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It’s A Whopper

Two professional women: both married with kids and both juggling clients, reports, potty training, packed lunches, chores, dogs, cats, errands, husbands and …”what was that you said? SEX?”
That three-letter word that once was so frequent, so liberating, so yummy has been sidelined in a sea of life, work and snot.
It is time.
Time to put sex back on a pedestal by injecting some extra spice into our relationships.

It’s A Whopper

Malted milk balls.  When those three words are uttered it makes me immediately think that the Duke has had an unfortunate run in with his testicles.  Luckily for him, his testicular region remains malt and milk free.  That would be a worry.  No, these little balls of delight, otherwise known as “Whoppers” seemed to the aphrodisiac of choice for Mission 24.  Interesting selection as I have always been a “Maltesers” fan.

This was not a difficult mission.  I did not come up against a battle of inner wills to make this happen.  I simply sat at my desk, grabbed the leftover Halloween chocolates and kept popping the “original” malted milk balls into my mouth.  I was happy, by all accounts Baby Duchess was happy – there was some serious sugar high kicks going on in that belly of mine – and turns out a few hours later the Duke was happy too.  Not sure if the Whoppers were the key to success, or we just struck it lucky that night but heck who cares – it worked.


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