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The Limits of Love

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.

The Limits of Love

Apparently, Mr. Lee has limits.

Allow his sex life to be plastered all over a blog?

I know you really want to see the underwear picture, but this will have to do…for now.

“That’s cool.”

Allow me to take a picture of him wearing his underwear, reindeer antlers, hippie glasses and vampire teeth while yielding a Nerf gun, then share it with my entire family?

“Whatever.”

Drink a few glasses of pineapple juice to optimize his wife’s pleasure during oral pleasure?

“I don’t like pineapple juice, it gives me heartburn.”

Don’t talk to me about heartburn. If the legend about heartburn in pregnancy being caused by the baby having a full head of hair were true, I would have birthed three Yetis.

But, rather than fight that fight, I left the two quarts of pineapple juice in the fridge and forced three pints of blueberries on Mr. Lee in a 36-hour period. My one failing in this mission was not checking the time it takes from eating the “flavor” to actual infusion.

I gave it a couple of days, then had a check with Mr. Lee’s vintage, at which point, I realized another failing with the mission. No matter what the taste, the substance involved in this venture is not one you smack your lips after consuming. Nonetheless, I imagined I was a wine connoisseur in Napa, and did my best to detect subtle hints of the super food.

The best I can say is maybe, MAYBE, the usual flavor was less subtle. Maybe.

And maybe Mr. Lee’s limits aren’t so limiting.

This week, after nine years, Mr. Lee reached his limit on a matter far more important to me than Mission 19. Mr. Lee made the decision to convert to the religion I was born into and have been raising our children in. Mr. Lee, who has always been willing to follow the rules I’ve brought to this family, made the selfless decision to commit to our greater mission.

And if he’s willing to do that for me, for our children, for our future, then I can’t possibly begrudge him the untouched pineapple juice.

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