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My kids LOVE Pop Rocks

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.

My kids LOVE Pop Rocks

After searching our local convenience and grocery stores for the delectable confection we call Pop Rocks with no success, my husband, who was eerily motivated to find this one item for me, found them at Academy, the local sporting goods store.

How did we know they were at Academy? Oh, because our 11-year-old engaged in a debate with him about seeing them there. Three trips later, andwith her eyes instead of his, we had about 13 packages – what can I say, he dreams big. The kids were tickled at the booty of candy they thought we purchased for them, and of course we shared. What do you think she’ll say if she ever finds out why we wanted them? She’s in middle school, so I bet she thinks it’s the “swallow Pop Rocks and a Coke and die from your stomach exploding” myth, which we’re not looking to debunk here.

So, the stack of Pop Rocks sat atop the armoire in our bedroom until one morning the three children were otherwise occupied long enough for us to test their recreational uses. I should say Mr. Lee averages about one oral pleasure from me a year (in my defense, I can’t remember the last oral pleasure I received). In anticipation, he had shaved his twig and berries completely!

For me, the Pop Rocks were a delightful surprise while trying to rush through my annual duty in the glaring light of day while the kids were squawking within earshot. I think I had strawberry, and though I worried about how to implement (put them in your mouth then “approach” – I had thought you coat “it” first), the flavor was delicioso. I was a bit more slobbery than usual, something I’m sure he enjoyed. He had a great time, but I think that was more a result of me actually doing the deed than the Pop Rocks. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn them down again.

The last few minutes of our Pop Rocks encounter were serenaded by the sound of our three-year-old banging on the door yelling for us to let her in. Through our expert negligence, I made sure we got our “rocks” off, before we let her in and gave the kids the rest to enjoy.

In speaking with a friend, who took one of our packages off our hands, she had claimed to have done it before, but realized after saying it to her husband, it had been with someone else before they were married. Busted! She recommended Burt’s Bees, which I’ll have to consider…next year.


  1. […] I knew they existed – which quite frankly was true until a friend suggested the mission and Miss Lee came into the office waving her extra packets in my face.  Pop Rocks weren’t part of my Brit upbringing.  I obviously missed out. Think of the fun I […]

  2. […] Miss Lee Does It […]

  3. […] forget things I tell him within minutes – i.e. milk at the store, red hoodie at Academy (yes, Academy), child at school – I was sure he’d forget why I was sending him randy texts. He did, […]

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