Saturday, September 21, 2013

Mother of the Year Goes to...

*Today's blog is not for those under 18. So, go away. Shoo. There, I've done all I can do

So when people ask me what I gave my daughter on her birthday party, I can say with pride, a reason to have a therapist. Not every parent is able to give their child this gift, and I can understand that. I, however, happen to be one of the few lucky ones blessed enough to be able to give this to my daughter even though she's only sixteen.

It kind of started out as her fault, really. That's my story anyway. She was texting her brother – on her new phone, now that it's September – and he asked her if she was going over to her boyfriend's house after the party. She said yes and kids being what they are today, he started making birthday-sex jokes. Now, this would normally freak a parent out, but I don't have a normal teenage daughter. She actually worries me because she isn't into sex or drugs or weird music or drinking or any of the things I was actually prepared to handle. Nope, she's just well behaved and there was nothing in the child psychology books I read when she was little about that. I was prepared for Teenzilla! She's more responsible than I am.

So, anyway, her brother is making birthday-sex jokes about her and her boyfriend, and she's texting back things like, “yeah, you know me, we're going to have a wild night”. Then they start up with her needing to wear protection because they don't want to get the boyfriend pregnant, ha ha!” Keep in mind, both her and her boyfriend are virgins and – at this point anyway – intend to stay that way until marriage. So she's tossing crude sexual banter back at her brother and I, being the parent that I am, say “Why don't you ask Keli if you can borrow his strap-on”. Now, I know Keli would know what this is, because kids these days just know way more than they are supposed to. They generally know more than adults these days. My kids and I have always had a bizarre sense of humor and we joke about things, that probably should not be joked about between kids and parents, but that's our kind of relationship. So, Alexis looks at me in a perplexed manner and says “Strap-on? What, like a feed sack for donkeys? You have to tie it on?” She still looks confused and I say, “You know, a strap-on.” I realize at that point that she is picturing a strap-on condom. I realize this because she says “why would you need to strap a condom on? What, it's gonna come off?” Oh God. Well, now I've stepped in it. She's picturing a feed sack for donkeys, and I'm way off. Now, I have to explain this device to her in a way that won't blow her innocent mind. So I explain it this way: “sometimes when two women love each other... they want to express that love... so they... need something... to... help... feed the donkey”. Oh. My. God. She gets it then and sort of – gags.

So, that's what I gave my daughter for her birthday. I gave her a mental picture she can never get out of her head. A lifetime of scarring brought to her by her mother. This is prime Dr. Phil stuff. I can just see it now:

Me: But Dr. Phil, we've always just joked around like that.

Dr. Phil: And how's that working for you?

Me: I didn't mean to, you know – I thought she knew! (I'm sobbing)

Dr. Phil: You though she knew? What kind of mother are you?

Me: A HORRIBLE one. (I run off the stage crying)

So, yeah. Please write in when you see me on the show. I'd like to at least think I made good ratings.

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