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Sister Act

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.

Sister Act

I have a sister that has for years been the model of prudishness in our family. Because she’s the good one – she’s the only one of the six kids to have always been what you would call “good” – it’s assumed she doesn’t perform in the bedroom. Blame this on the fact that she respectfully doesn’t talk about doing it, and that my family is comprised of barracudas hungry for any excuse to taunt you. The thought of her as depriving her husband AND not seeing rated R movies is just too good not to make fun of. Yes, we’re that family.

Since we already admitted we had a problem by launching this blog, Mission 7 seems a redundant exercise for The Duchess and me. However, there’s a reason we’ve assumed these names. In admitting I had a problem, I had to reveal this site to the two people in my life whose opinion I feared the most – my mother and my sister. My mom because she’s my mom and more active than anyone I know. My sister, because she’s the prude we all assume doesn’t have sex with her husband. I might add that I once told her I enjoyed sex with Mr. Lee because it was short, to which she replied, “Miss Lee!” in an astonished Victorian tone.

Determined, I dialed my sister yesterday to tell her, “If you want to see how that blow job I gave my husband last night turned out, go to www.missiondoit.com.” That seemed a bit calloused, so I opted to tell her I had, ahem, “Started a blog about intimacy in marriage.”

She said, “Uh huuuh” with that little lift at the end that means, “I’m listening.”

What she really was thinking was, “Oh brother, I don’t want to have to pay attention to a dorky mommy blog rife with spelling errors.”

I further explained the purpose, mentioning that there were times Mr. Lee and I had gone two months without sex.

“Really?” She asked astonished, making me realize she and her husband had never gone that long – and with an extra kid on us. Dammit!

“Why would I be mad?” She impl-whored.

“Because you never talk about that stuff and always get on me for doing it,” I, the younger sister replied.

“Have you told Mom?”

“No, but she won’t care. She’ll be happy Mr. Lee and I are having sex.”

“The only reason I would be mad is if you wrote about me.”

After hanging up with her, I proceeded to tell my mother-in-law, who was, for lack of a better word, tickled. Then my own mother, who was a bit aghast. She suggested I say my name is my sister-in-law’s if anyone ever asks.

All-in-all, nobody really cared that we had had a problem, or that we were talking about it, albeit under assumed names. So, like the youngest child that I am, I’ve picked where I know I can get the biggest reaction – I’ve written about my older sister, the (not so) prude.



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