It's probably best NOT to get this kind of advice from your mom...that's why God made sisters

Once a week I have lunch with my little sister.

She is full of great advice.

Take for instance our last lunch. My and Kevin's anniversary was coming up and she recommended I get a __________. *

She said I needed this magical tool of pleasure to keep my marriage enriched. Spicy.

To be honest, I had no idea what the hell it was or how you use it. I see that going over real well...

Me: Hey honey, I got this thing, but I don't know how to use it. It's supposed to heat up our bedroom only not in a space heater kind of way. (Elbow and eyebrow raise in a very awkward but hot kind of way...I don't know how that man resists me.)

After little sister explained how you use it, she then had to explain a term she used to describe a body part and then....I finally understood. Sweet. Lord.

Of course I had to ask if she and her husband ever used one.

Little Sister: Aww yeah. ---pause--- He really has to be kind of drunk to agree to it.

I'm married to "one beer Kevin". I might get a couple of beers and a margarita in this guy, but I ain't gettin' nowhere close to the inebriation he's going to need to be at to agree to this. Not to mention, I had NO idea where you get one.

I would have preferred to order it online with anonymity.

I also would have preferred NOT to take a nine month old to a sex shop so I could have it in time for our anniversary celebration.

But little sister insisted.

According to her, we would not get creepy looks from the other shoppers for our laid back-free spirited style.

I couldn't tell you if that was true or not.

I ran in and out so fast, the whole thing was a blur. I might have picked up a few other things in my haste.

Unintentional of course.

I didn't want to sit and browse the __________* section just so I could find the right one. Even if I knew what that was.

I may have left little sister there.

Naturally, she opened the package in the car to get a better look.

LB was singing songs in the back seat.

I'm pretty sure this is an automatic entry for the "Mother of the Year" awards.

I've got "Wife of the Year" WON. Hands. Down.

(*You know those eighty year old women who have no filter and say the first thing that comes to their mind with no thought as to the inappropriateness of it? Sort of like when your grandmother tells you to start trying for that second kid before your ovaries shrivel up and fall out. Well, if I was one of those women, I would straight up tell you the name of the magical tool of pleasure little sister told me to get...You've got 42 more years to wait.)