Before we discovered we were pregnant, my wife and I were subjected to some wonderful theories on conception as well. When we’d been having no luck for two years and medical science had been having its way with us, Dawn’s mother decided to pass on the solution to our troubles.
  “When you have sex,” she said, somewhat tentatively–my mother-in-law is a terrible prude–“have it from the back, and it will work.”
  “From the back?” I said, trying to sound incredulous.
  “Yes,” she said, “You get behind her.”
  I knew what she was talking about, but this was too much fun. “I get behind her? How does that work? Am I standing?”
  “No, you’re not standing,” she said, and groped for a set of words she considered clean that would convey her meaning. It turned out she didn’t have any. “You know,” she added.
  “I’m a little confused,” I continued. “I’m behind her? Which way should I be facing?”
  But then Dawn came over and made me stop.