Nothing Sacred

Life is never dull around my dinner table when one or more of the sisters are present. Poor mother often shakes her head and then laughs , heartily.
Maybe shock is good for the lady. Father is another story. I believe if he could slither from his chair and crawl into a hole he has willed to open, he would.

We women are open to discussion of any topic. This often means nothing is sacred.

The youngest in the birthing order has a habit of crossing that fine line of proper. Imagine if you will, a Catholic woman who raised five daughters, sitting around the table with two of them. Conversation is mild and before too long, sex is brought up. We talk about it openly, much to her dismay, a bit graphic. Then, when I thought it was going well, my sister decided to ask mom

"have you ever given dad oral sex?"

Now, don't get me wrong, after spitting out my coffee, watching my mother for signs of a stroke and looking to make sure it was really my baby sister asking, I said "Wow". And if that wasn't enough, my sister looked at my mother and said " what, Ma, you never have?"

Mother recovered nicely and now I know, nothing is sacred.