We sat. Staring at each other over our coffees.
Mine, a delicious Americano with 4 shots of espresso. What? I’m not a morning person, what can I say!?
Hers, some sweet drink with more whipped cream than liquid. And boy, did that whipped cream look yummy! What? I have a sweet tooth and it doesn’t matter what time of day!
I looked at her, with what was hopefully a welcoming expression. Ready to answer any questions. Or talk about anything that she may have needed to discuss. Willing to be truthful and forthright. Confident I could tackle this daunting matter without blushing, stuttering or vomiting.
She looked at me. Yeah. Just…looked at me. And shrugged her shoulders.
I took it upon myself to open the door of discussion.
“So?” I said.
She…looked at me. Again. And smiled. Not in the least bit embarrassed or nervous.
And, quite frankly, neither was I.
We bantered back and forth openly about what she had to unfortunately, audio-ly witness.
She shrugged it off as no big deal.
I told her about the time I walked in on my parents. We both dry heaved into our coffees.
I relayed to her the fact that she is lucky that her parents enjoy each other still, even in the biblical sense.
And she said…
no…they don’t. And if it was my parent’s having sex, I would have been very disturbed and upset.
She was half kidding. But I forgot, when we were discussing this whole lovely event, that I’m NOT the real Mom. Which, ugh, made it a little disconcerting. But, nonetheless…
And that was it.
We joked about it here and there, throughout the day.
I found out that my other daughter had, indeed, been listening to the moaning melody from the parents love nest.
But then…the clincher to the entire day.
The fact that confirmed we need a triple lock on our door. OR, perhaps and entirely different congenial house. Our own private house of ill repute.
When my oldest son came home from being with his dad.
Sigh.
The girls filled him in on what had happened in my bedroom, the night before.
And they told him about the lovely duo harmony they heard.
They informed him of the path of notes left, leading me to the doozywhopper on the kitchen table.
And HE…
looked at me.
And HE…
said…
“Uh, Mom. You REALLY need a lock on your door. Because I’ve walked in on you guys before. I won’t even tell you what I saw. But yuck, I saw stuff. So yeah. Get a lock.”
The whole privacy thing was addressed, with all my kids sitting bug eyed and looking a little woozy around the kitchen table.
I’m going to be using the lock.
For sure.
AND…
A sign will be put on my door that says:
Don’t come ‘asneakin’ when the bed is ‘acreakin’
Bad?
Sorry. I had that stuck in my head!
Hopefully, we all learned a little lesson in this.
And, I can drop it now.
Until the next time. When another child walks in on something they shouldn’t.
Because with five kids. It’s so bound to constantly happen.
No matter what sign is on my door.
Or how many locks there are.
It’s some sort of disgustingly gross rite of passage to walk in on your parents schtupping…I think.
So you think you could get that s-word into your tags a few more times? Cuz I don’t think it’s there enough. 😛
I am still emotionally scarred by my moments witnessing my own parents having sex. I wish I could scrub them from my brain. Damn that good memory!
However, I haven’t felt like I’ve needed to discuss it with my therapist, so it must not be as big a deal as all that.
I think you handled this really really well…
I think you handled it well. I also think the sign should read “Knock 3 times, give Dad 5 minutes, then come in.” 🙂
SCHTUPPING!!!
I love you.
Not only did you handle it really well, but I think the kids did too – even with all the notes (you know it’s quite amusing really).
I heard my mom and my step-dad when I was eight. It still makes me sick to think about it!
I bought a lock last year. I don’t want to traumatize my kiddos!
SOOOOO not ready for this.. but you did a GREAT job… it truly is just one of those things every kid remembers .. 🙂
Okay I am crying I am laughing so hard…I have to go read the other post! The whole situation happens. The good thing as you said, you guys love each other, sex is natural…oh no I just got that George Michael Song in my head…but sex is natural and seriously cracks me up you don’t lock the door!!
Sounds like the kids will live…no mental scarring, other than the “yuck, I saw STUFF!”
Your kids are a riot!
Hi! I was linked to this blog through Melisa over at Suburban Scrawl. I’ve also heard MomoFali talk about you, and I thought it was time to give you a read. And what a read it was! I’m laughing hysterically. Why is it funny? Because of course this happened to me, too. It was the oldest, TWICE! Once when she was 2, so no worries. Then she did it again when she was in her mid-teens. Mood buster. After reading this post, I know I have to follow you!
Sounds like you handled it well and the kids are not traumatized. But, really… I have two locks in our room. Now I just need to get the squeak in the bed frame fixed.
DON’T COME SNEAKIN IF THE BED’S A-CREAKIN.
that just made me piss my pants a little.
Better knock you might see……
oh. *CENSORED*
Thanks for sharing this. I just had one of mine find out about the s word on the internet at a friends. Was planning on the “talk” at the end of the summer. So, she did respond with – you mean you and daddy did that twice. I almost laughed, but I said yes and we talked more about it. But I think if she had seen us, that would have probably freaked her out. But I know many that have been put in this position (no pun intended).
You did a great job.
Hum. Did I miss something? Your kids saw/heard things and you addressed it. You didn’t shrink away. You didn’t make them feel like sex is something to be ashamed of. I think you handled it pretty damned fine!
I think you handled it very well and bravo to your daughter to feeling ok with discussing it with you. Parents need time to ummmm, how did you put it? schtupp?
Oh, I am SO not ready for that.
Not even close. Fortunately, my kids still can’t work the child proofed contraptions over my bedroom door handle.
It is the only reason I have left it on.