Hump Day? Hmm...

W. brought in the mail and said "now you're getting packages addressed to Magpie Musing?" He handed it to me; from the return address I could tell it was a book I'd agreed to review. I opened it and showed it to him. "Maybe we'll have some fun with this."

It was a book called Hump: True Tales of Sex After Kids.

He blushed and handed it back to me.

I read it. I read the whole thing. It was often amusing, and frequently provocative, but occasionally annoying and kind of unsettling. That may be more about prudish me, but then again, I don't know. I've never had "toys"; the book made me wonder whether I've been missing something (for that matter, so did Aurelia last year). And since I never learned how to be a real girl, I'm not about to start getting Brazilians (I have enough trouble keeping my legs shaved). Nor am I going to start hosting pole dancing parties in my living room.

The book went completely off the rails for me with her enthusiastic endorsement of pornography and Vegas lap dances. Call me old-fashioned, but to me, pornography and lap dancing are exploitative of women, degrading women, turning women into commodity. Thanks, but no thanks.

I kind of wanted to like the book more - after all, I am her demographic: the overextended married mother, in a heterosexual, monogamous relationship. But I didn't really get much out of it, beyond the rekindling of a vague curiosity about vibrators (my turn to blush).

Incidentally, it's all about monogamous sex between married men & women. No adultery, no same-sex relationships. None of that Little Children shacking up with the stay-at-home dad you met at the playground.

And peeps? This is as close as you'll get to me talking about my sex life on this here blog. Bacon? I can do bacon. I'll leave the blogger's sex life to Deb on the Rocks.

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[Many apologies to Julie, who inspired the post title and who will receive a little something in the mail for her forbearance...yup, I mailed the book to her.]