The problem with teaching kids to read is that one day they'll be smarter than you...

Hello !

I hope you're having a lovely Easter weekend with kids, grandkids or someone hiding a chocolate bunny for you. Given our boys are grown, but have not started to replicate, there is no hidden chocolate in my house this weekend.

Last night, Son #1 and I had a 90-minute talk about the book he's reading, Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow by Yuval Noah Harari. It's non-fiction, but what he described from the book sounds pretty sci-fi to me.

When my sweet son called, I was reading The Dream Guy Next Door by Lauren Blakely. Romance, of course.

He reads to fill his head, I read to fill my heart.

Point is, my kid has smarts and loves to learn, so I shouldn't have been surprised by a conversation we had two years ago, when he was home visiting on Easter weekend.

What happens when a private bathroom becomes a little more public

Our house has just one shower, in the ensuite bathroom. That's where Sweet Son was on this weekend, two years ago when I heard him yell, none-too-pleased, "Mom! What the hell is this?"

I had an inkling that I knew what was upsetting him, so I took a deep breath and tried not to smile. He stood, towel wrapped around his waist, pointing at the mirror. Well, above the mirror to a small, 3D model of ... a clitoris.

"It's an anatomically correct clitoris," I said, no doubt smirking since his reaction was so in character.

"I know what it is!" he scowled and gave me that look kids do so well, the "I'm not an idiot, but you must be" eye-hand combination.

That surprised me. I mean, he was twenty-two years old and I was over fifty. I had only recently learned how much more there was to a clitoris, below the hood, as it were.

"I'm really impressed that you know what it is."

He scowled. "Biology. Anatomy. Hello, you know what courses I've taken. Why do you have it?"

"Why does it upset you that I have a clitoris on display in my bathroom?" Of course, I emphasized the word to see how hard I could make his eyes roll.

He shook his head. "What next? An anatomically correct sculpture of a penis on the coffee table?"

I suspect the face I made in answer to his question, mirrored the one he had, looking at the clitoris.

A lifelike penis, standing at attention? No thanks. That would be a hard pass for me (for which Mr.Bloom is grateful).

But there's something empowering about being able to see a part of every woman's body that has the power to literally take our breath away. The fact that 95% of it is tucked away and never seen makes putting it on display feel like an act of revolution. Since a penis and testicles flaunt their desire without shame, I feel like giving a clitoris the chance to quietly say, "Just because I'm not jumping for your attention, doesn't mean I don't want it."

I stumbled on that 3D model of a clitoris quite by chance just over two years ago and the discovery played a role in my decision to write steamy romance. But that's a story for another day.

Kind of a weird Easter story... but that's what was in my head this morning.

If I think back twenty years, there was the Easter I let that same son eat as much of his Easter chocolate as he wanted. No limits. He woke up in the middle of the night, leaned over the edge of his top bunk and threw up, leaving an impossible to clean stain on the wall-to-wall carpet.

And his analysis of that 'all you can eat' experience, even after giving it all up?

"Best. Easter. Ever."

What's your most memorable Easter story? I'd love to know. Sunday morning coffee and your story will make my day.

Free books that *might* mention a clitoris...

ALL NEW! April promos (how did this happen?). Have a peak. Lots of new authors and titles in these collections.

I'm not sure how I should wrap up this week.... love & whatkindofstuff? Something chocolate? Something anatomical? Hmmm...I think I want to wish you an abundance of both!

love & sexysweetstuff,

Danika

xo

PS—If you've never written me before, do! I'd love to hear your favorite Easter story.