Sex

I'll preface my comments by saying that if you're easily offended, it's okay to just skip this blog post.  No need to ruin your day with this random nonsense, unless you want to gasp and simultaneously giggle.

I'm notorious for talking about sex in the company of well, most anyone.

My close girlfriends start the stopwatch to see how long it will take me to turn the topic of the dinner/drinks conversation to the naughty stuff that happens in the bedroom.

My husband just laughs it off.  He knows.  I can't help myself.

And so last night at reverse happy hour, over Sake and Sangria, it happened.  The girls and I started talking about sex...you know, like how many times married couples have it during the work week, if you look forward to it or feel like it's another obligation on the chore chart and what positions make it more fun and adventurous.

To which, my absolutely hysterical friend said, "Come on, Kelly, maybe you need to incorporate a 'Cleveland Steamer' or a 'Hot Carl' into the mix...I'm sure you're already well versed in the 'Dirty Sanchez.'"

Snotting Sangria out of my nose, I explode with, "What the fuck are you talking about?" laughing hysterically, "What is happening right now?  You're blowing my mind, I think."

And then we simultaneously grabbed our phones and Googled this shit and I thought, Oh my God, I want to vomit.  I had no idea that people had these fetishes.  Maybe my bedroom antics are just fine.

But we couldn't help ourselves and so we kept going, "What about the 'Angry Dragon'?"

Oh dear Lord, now, I'm going to Hell.  I've done it.  The conversation has deteriorated into something that could be used against me in a court of law.  My children are in jeopardy of being taken away, as right they should be.

But I swear, this is what happens when you're a middle-aged stay at home mama that's been married for over a decade...you find yourself having drinks with the girls, dishing about jacked up sexual positions, wondering what they'd be like, and then thanking God that your routine sex acts are working just fine.

And to that end, I say, maybe we should all invent our own signature named sexual position and submit it to the Urban Dictionary for review complete with visuals by paid actors who make us look amazing in the act.

Ah, thank goodness I can't afford to do happy hour very often.  I can only handle so much information.  It may be a lesson to me that I need to tone down the sex chats and turn the topic toward something more benign like what people's kids are going to be for Halloween or getting an early jump on my Christmas shopping...but really, where's the fun in that?