I just read this one in my book club and I am here to tell you that book clubs are not just for ladies bored with cookie exchanges and Tupperware parties or for those with a hall pass to get drunk and catty. In fact I recently joined one filled with funny Kindergarten moms who happen to like wine, a lot, and chocolate (which happens to be brought in Tupperware) while talking about a lot of things, including good books.

We recently sought out a book about sex. We didn't really need a how-too manual (though we agreed that if we found one, it could be strategically left out for our partners.) We wanted something to spice up a dark Chicago winter and also provide some practical information about sex. After chatting-up our local bookstore owner, we delved into Bonk by Mary Roach. Bonk is advertised as a witty overview of the study of the science of sex. This choice seemed to fit right in with our repertoire of not-quite how-to non-fiction book choices by witty female authors, such as MFK Fisher's How to Cook a Wolf. But unfortunately it was neither witty nor did it deliver any recipes for how to achieve a vaginal orgasm.

We unanimously criticized Bonk for its sophomoric commentary and haphazard litany of sex studies, and it became the first book that the group came to a consensus on--it sucked. Roach misses the mark on describing the ebb and flow of sex research and doesn't even make the reader feel sexy.

We did read that Marie Bonaparte, Napoleon Bonaparte's niece, made great strides in identifying the starring role of the clitoris in female orgasms, (she surgically moved her own twice to optimize hers!) Yet our mothers' generation barely even knew what a clitoris was. This begs the question, what happened to sex research in the intervening hundred years? Perhaps an editor, or even an outline, would have helped Roach organize the studies into an interesting portrait of sex research and help us understand our generation's relationship to sex.

If it wasn't enough to disappoint an entire group of sun-starved Chicago women in January, my husband might have been most offended. He is secretly jealous of our book club for its flavorful mix of smart people and compelling reading list. He was especially happy about this month's book choice because according to his man logic, WIFE + SEX BOOK=LOTS OF SEX. However after the first two nights of squirming uncomfortably while I recounted stories of men ejaculating with toothbrushes up their urethras, or explaining how sows need foreplay from their handlers for successful insemination, he quickly decided that working late would be more productive.

The unfortunate side effects of the book like the absence of pork products in our kitchen and the sharp increase in sexless nights drove him to read the Internet. And after I shared one last detail about penile implants he retaliated with a video about duck vaginas. In this YouTube video, Isabella Rosellini (obviously in full duck dress) explains how a duck's vagina is a labyrinth. Lady ducks can either steer duck penises to mecca and fertilize the egg or to a deserted dead-end. In essence she can reserve the baby-daddy status for her prince charming instead of the first duck to mount her. How handy! With the idea that Rosellini's cinematic choices might make a better book club topic this month, I forwarded the video. Alas the subject "Green Porn," made more people think it was a Canadian pharmacy selling viagra than actually watch it.

Despite my failure to detour the book club conversation, we did not waste much of our time talking about Roach's book, but we did cover our experiences with strip clubs, jerk shacks, birth control, and porn. The night ended as any night might with a group of Moms who spent a few hours with a few drinks talking about sex--"Can you believe this crazy thing that came out of MY vagina?"*

*(Our Kids)