We all have those awkward moments when parents go rogue and get a little TMI or do something completely unexpected that leaves your jaw dragging on the floor, right?
Mine happened after my bridal shower while we were sitting around a table with one of my mom’s co-workers and her daughter (both whom I’d just met that day), my aunt, my cousin, and my sister.
It all started innocently enough with my sister telling us how she’d accidentally worn CFM pumps to church and nearly face planted when the heel stuck in the carpet and how difficult they were to walk in. She hadn’t realized when she’d bought them that they were that high or what CFM (Come Fuck Me) stood for in the first place…until her friend saved her from the disastrous fall and told her what those kinds of shoes were called.
We were all laughing when my mom, who apparently owned the same pair of shoes, decided to throw in her $.02 and tell us all that she’s never had any issues with her heels and that my step-dad loved it when she wore them to bed.
On the one hand, mom deserves a fist bump and a, “You go get you some!”
On the other? She’s my mom and I needed to scrub my imagination.
Although this story was hilarious, it reminded me of an old classmate of mine from early high school. You see, Paul had a HUGE crush on my mom. To the point that his 14 year old self had decided he needed to marry her.
And he took it a step further.
He, in front of me and several of our other friends, walked up to another parent who was good friends with my mom and asked, “Mr. B. do you think I’d make a good step-dad?”
The boy was serious. (And I was seriously dying because 1. my mom has NEVER been into boys. 2. that took guts. And 3. I was older than him by a year and was never gonna be calling that kid dad.)
In my new book, A Way With Words, one of our heroes, Drew, has an outrageous mom, too, so I thought I’d share a little excerpt.
“I…” Drew said between gasps and howls. “Just..realized…something! Haha!”
Ty snickered as he watched Drew wiping tears from his eyes. “What’s that?”
“My mom’s gonna be so jealous!” Drew roared. “She’s gonna think I stole her man!”
“Are you serious?” Ty was grinning.
Drew sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady his giggles. “I’d say as a heart attack, but after the last ER visit, I’d rather none of us had to be in the vicinity of that place.” He smirked at Ty, then grimaced at the cramp in his side. “She called dibs on you the day she met you, years ago. Of course, back then I’m pretty sure she had no idea that I’d be her prime competition, not that I think she’d care. Hell, she may get a little awkward. You remember her tendency to overshare, right?”
Suddenly his humor had dried up as he pictured the awkward, way-too-detailed-for-any-son’s-comfort advice the woman tended to dole out. Shit. He had no doubt she was going to be fine with everything, but if the woman started giving him lube advice or asking Ty kinky questions no mom should ask, he was going to die. Hell, he should probably warn Kalina. He just knew his mom was going to ask her if she enjoyed being the meat in a man sandwich or some such. Ugh. He loved the woman, but she had no filter. He was under no delusions that he came by that trait honestly.
Ty’s face lit up. “Relax! We can handle your mom. Hell, I love that woman.” He winked at Drew. “If I were into cougars, I might have taken her up on her teasing eons ago.”
As easy as Mother’s Day is for me to celebrate…such strong feelings of love and laughter…the opposite is true for me with Father’s Day. There are some who might say I have “Daddy Issues”. Not in the sense of being sexually drawn to men to fulfill a father type role in my life, but in that complicated, unsettled way. He wasn’t there as a parent both physically and emotionally. His choice. Thankfully, my mom was.
Me, my little sis and my bio dad
What does that mean?
Although my parents divorced when I was 10, my dad had been slowly becoming a nonentity in our household much further back. In fact, this picture taken in Germany was probably one of the last times we were really just being close and hanging out… Once we moved back to the Philippines he got caught up in wanting to go out and party with his friends and would forget to come home except every once in a while…and usually just to sleep.
When my youngest brother died, it was the last straw, both for my parents’ marriage and my father’s coping abilities. I suspect that it was easier for him to pretend we didn’t exist than to be there for us. If it weren’t for my grandparents and the rest of his family, I suspect we would have lost contact completely.
For a long time I was hurt, angry….yes, even a bit bitter. It made me careful in my own relationships. I didn’t want to take the chance of bringing a child into this world and making him feel the way I did. I didn’t want them to cry with bittersweet disappointment over songs written about Fathers and their kids…knowing that they’d been robbed of such a special, unique bond. That hurt…Jimmy Wayne get’s it right in his song…along with a sense of hope once you finally let go of your anger and hurt (one of the hardest parts).
I doubt my relationship with my biological father will ever be easy or simple. Too much water under that bridge. But I’m not angry anymore. The better word to describe my emotions? Wistful. There’s a part of me that understands that there’s a bond most fathers have with their children, not just their daughters. I’ll always feel a tug at my heart when I hear one of those awesome songs that describes what a loving father/child relationship can be like.
But you know what? I did the next best thing. I found a person to share my life who values family. Believe me, I tested him. There’s a reason it took 16 years before we finally decided to get married. Thank goodness for patience (his, that is). Any children I may have will never wonder if they mattered. That won’t be a question in their vocabulary.
As for my father? Over the years of trials and heartaches I’ve remembered I have a Father who’s loved me all along. Like Amy Grant sings… When the world looks at me, I want them to say I have my Father’s Eyes. There’s a peace in realizing he’s loved, protected me and accepted me unconditionally all along.
Having said all this…Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there who take the time to be parents to their children. For me, there’s not much cooler than a man who absolutely adores his kids.
Yesterday I read an awesome blog from one of my blogging buddies, Crazy Train To Tinky Town, about what’s in a name. In fact, she was talking about how she came to be named. Oddly enough, I’d been thinking a lot about that exact topic as I’d recently come across one of my old journal books that housed my poems. In there was a poem I wrote for a creative writing project.
What do names and my project have to do with each other? Well, the project was to ask your parents how your name was selected, then write about it. As it turns out, I come by my poetic streak naturally. In fact, I remember that when I was younger, my mom would write long, long poems…usually church and God related. This meant that the words she used to describe how my name was selected were very strong and artistic. The teacher never specified HOW we had to write about our name selection, so I chose one of my favorite mediums. It was a creative writing class, afterall.
The parents-and me, incubating in Mom’s belly
Baby Girl
The angels in heaven
must have joined me
in my
celebration
on the day you
were born.
A beautiful,
perfect
baby girl
entering
an imperfect world.
I prayed
that God
would grant you
strength enough to
stand tall
in the midst of
the despair
you would
one day
face.
So I named
you
courageous.
Spaghetti Face Me
I wrote this back on May 6, 1992. It’s the meaning behind my name. I hope you found her awesome explanation of how she arrived at my name interesting. Funny, it wasn’t until that class that I bothered to ask about why my name was chosen. I was 18 at the time.
You know, she’s always treated me like I was brave and strong. I don’t know if it’s because of the name or how she treats me, but most of the time I’ve felt that way…a bit like a lioness. I think she’s proud of the person I’ve grown up to be. I just hope she thinks I’ve done justice to the name she chose for me.
Back in Germany
What about you? How did you come by your name? Do you think it has any bearing on the person you are today?
Although I was the “queen of sex information”, it wasn’t until a little more than 10 years ago that I bought anything that could be perceived as a traditional sex toy. As many of you know, my first career was in medically related. After having worked in the ER, seeing some of these kinds of “mishaps” I’m sure you can understand my concern. I mean…I practically grew up at that hospital. Many of the staff were either family or close friends of the family. There was no way I wanted to subject myself to that kind of embarrassment.
There was another part to my trepidation about visiting an adult shop. In fact, I’d hazard that even the most open minded women have moments of hesitation at the thought of walking into a shop…especially alone! When I pictured going, it was always a dimly lit place, or dirty. Even worse was the concern of who might see you there or the type of employee working behind the counter. Always, in my mind’s eye, I’d picture the worst….and there are times when that’s exactly what you get…I mean, many of you read about my last visit….
I had been in Florida for about a year when I decided to go back home to Chicago for a visit. While staying at my mom’s place one of my best friends from Junior High and I decided to meet for breakfast. As happens with old friends, breakfast turned into spending the day together. While hanging out she mentioned that she had plans to go to a pleasure party at a friend’s house and invited me to come along. She’d never been to one and was a bit embarrassed at the thought of going alone. I’d never been to one before, but thought it sounded like a blast!
While we were there all sorts of toys and creams and lingerie were paraded around for us to check out. Of course with a room full of women, there was much giggling. I thought it was a great alternative to going to an adult store. Better yet, your orders were taken privately and individually, and were wrapped in brown paper bags so that no one knew what you purchased. Of course women talk, so only a few people’s orders remained private.
When it was my turn to go into the room and order I debated what I wanted to buy. Why? Because I had this image embedded into my brain. My overly vivid imagination had this picture of getting to the airport, preparing to go through security…and as I prepared to check my bag…a vibrator going off….very loudly…from inside my luggage. In my mind’s eye I saw a TSA employee calling in for an assist and a swarm of security officers opening my bag very cautiously…the eyes of everyone in the airport now on that suitcase….as they pull out something that looked like this…(or worse).
The thought completely mortified me. So I played it safe. I purchased a cream called nipple nibblers….strawberry flavored, of course. Their purpose should be obvious. I also picked up a numbing agent for the back of the throat for blowjobs…not Goodhead, though I have tried their stuff, too. I honestly don’t remember the brand anymore. Finally, I purchased something with a minty flavor that made a woman all tingly in her lady parts. 😉
After my fun experience I decided I wanted to try to host one of these parties, myself! I looked around online and found a company called Slumber Parties. I registered online to hostess a pleasure party for my friends and I. I figured…now I could buy some fun stuff and not have to worry about embarrassing myself in front of airport security… (Not to mention family…if my exploration led to an emergency hospital visit)
I was pleasantly surprised. The lady who came out was cool, hilarious…and very knowledgeable. Every single one of my friends walked away buying something. This meant discounts and bonuses for me. This woman was smart. She let us sample the creams…using one hand for the tasting hand and the other for the feeling (things like lubricant, etc). The creams that were created for different sensations down below…she picked a couple of volunteers to sample, put some on a qtip, gave instructions and sent them into the ladies room to try on. It was fun watching them squirm through the presentations on vibrators, etc. (And no, gentlemen…the ladies didn’t all “try them”…we just passed them around and felt how strong the vibrations were in our hands).
Well, you know how concerned I was about those embarrassing moments? They never happened to me….but, thanks to my little party…they DID happen to a couple of friends. I think the vibrator that most intrigued our group of ladies was something called the G-Wiz. This particular toy had two removable silver bullets and battery operated controls. It was meant to hit 3 orgasm spots. There was a clitoral stimulator, a vaginal wall stimulator and it curved to hit the g-spot.
I can still hear our lady telling us…”Now ladies, the G-Spot is NOT a myth. This particular device will not only help you find it, but if you’ve never had one, will help you experience it. You’ve now felt how powerful the vibrations are from those silver bullets. I will warn you of one thing. Be sure you have a towel handy. When you insert this toy and you turn on the power…the curve will have the tip of this toy tapping on your g-spot. You may feel like you have to pee. Do not stop! You do not have to pee. That is the g-spot swelling up to give you that orgasm. Your orgasm will be intense and messy…and it’s NOT pee.”
She wasn’t lying…
One of my friends who purchased that device came up to me a few months later, completely mortified.
Her: Oh my God!
Me: What’s the matter?
Her: Remember that toy I bought at your party?
Me: Yeah…Last I heard you were enjoying it quite a bit!
Her: I was! Now I just want to die!!!
Me: What happened?
Her: Well, you know how tough it is to find “alone time” when you’ve got 4 kids.
Me: Yeah…
Her: It’s even worse when your mother-in-law lives with you, too.
Me: (trying hard not to laugh) Noooo…
Her: I was alone in the house…had a great time…but then I heard the front door, so I dropped the thing by my laundry and rushed to get dress so the kids wouldn’t find anything.
Me: Yeah….?
Her: I went back last night to get it and put it away and I couldn’t find it!
Me: Oh, crap.
Her: That’s when I noticed the laundry had been taken and washed and folded. (in a wail) My mother-in-law did my laundry!!!
Me: Did you ask her if she found it?
Her: Hell no! I’m too embarrassed. I’m not asking her shit! When are you having another party?
And then there was my other friend. She came to work a few weeks later, looked at me and burst out laughing. I gave her one of my “what the heck was that” looks…and once she could breath again she told me.
Her: You remember the pleasure party you had at your house?
Me: Yeah…
Her: Well, since I’ve been working so much I thought I’d buy a little something for Sam.
Me: Like what?
Her: I think you call it a “pocket pussy”.
Me: Oh, I think I remember seeing that in the catalog.
Her: Well, Sam and I have a little toy chest for that sort of thing, especially with 3 boys in the house, but I think he may have forgot to put it away after the last time he used it.
Me: What makes you say that?
Her: He was snoozing on the couch last night, watching tv and one of the boys wanted his attention. I looked over and my son was trying to wake him up by smacking him in the head with it…over and over again.
Me: (laughing hilariously at the image)
Her: Yeah…thank goodness I didn’t get the lifelike looking one. That might have been too much. It was all I could do to grab it out of the hands of one of my twins. I couldn’t even ask him where he got it from because I didn’t want to draw attention to what he was holding.
Me: Oh, wow! What did Sam do?
Her: He looked at me, shook his head and walked into the bedroom after taking it out of my hands…his shoulders were shaking as he walked away.
Me: I’ll bet!
All I could think of was that I was immensely grateful that one of my other gal pals didn’t buy the Swing she wanted to buy. She was over 200 lbs…and without knowing how much weight that thing could hold…it could’ve been very, very bad.
Have you had one of those awkward sex toy moments? Or have you had a fear of one of those moments happening to you that’s prevented you from buying one?
I have to say…they’re a ton of fun…but if you have children there are two things to consider. 1.) Have a designated toy hiding spot. 2.) Make sure that the hiding spot has a lock… Having said that, I think it’s getting to be about that time for me to go shopping again. I’ve been thinking something in glass…
C’mon…you can’t say you’re surprised about the music choice considering the content of this post…LOL!
So, I've been spanked, hard! I have spanked myself hard, I have spanked others even harder! I'm now heading for a different road, one that still includes all the best bits of me, all the naughty bits, all the hot steamy bits, and plenty of spanking still to be had! But this time I'm creating characters to play out my delightful erotic fantasies, I hope you enjoy the new ride as much as the previous one...
theinnerwildkat 