The obligatory 50 Shades Post

I've been on holiday the last two weeks and the time has included long hours with some other suburban mothers in my vicinity, women who are predominately not now working outside the home as they have children and heavy activity schedules to juggle and their spouses work very long, hard hours.  Something very like the following the occurred when it was revealed that they had all read 50 Shades of Grey in their book club or while standing in the kids' section of Barnes and Noble while their offspring played on the Thomas the Tank Engine train table.

"What I don't understand is how Christian Grey had all that time!" Jane says as she slathers 50 SPF sunblock on her Lands End-clad tankini body.  "Honey!  No throwing sand!  Do you need Monkey Butt for the chafing?" she shouts at her children.

"It's ridiculous," Mary agrees.  "Hey, kids, stop eating all the Trader Joes Pirate Booty popcorn; we're  having lunch soon.  And, dude, you need to finish another 50 pages of your summer assigned reading or no XBox when we get  home!"  (The last is directed to her tween.)  Mary pauses to adjust the Sunbrella.  "If Christian Grey was such a self-made, young billionaire businessman, there is no way he'd have the time or energy for all those assignations.  'Sure, I'll meet you at 4 PM for sexy times!'"

All the women snort and roll their eyes, recalling all the missed soccer practices, parent-teacher conferences, and playdate pickups.  

"It's totally unrealistic."

"She's not seeing him until 10 PM and he's exhausted and checking his iPhone all night."