Warning: the following blog post contains massive amounts of unsexy you assume all responsibility for any inability to jerk-off, fuck or engage in sex work that may result as a consequence of reading this post. namelesschaos cannot be held accountable for any loss of bonding/orgasms/income that may occur after reading this.
As the title says I’m pretty sure my parents had one terrible, terrible sex life. What allows me to makes such declarations about my parent’s bedroom habits:
1) They have slept in separate rooms for the past 16 years. I still say my father’s room and my mother’s room in conversation and it takes takes me a second to realize how weird this sounds to normal people.
2) <understatement of the century>. My parents fall short of being the greatest example of successful interpersonal communication that I have seen. </understatement of the century >
3) My mother is a major, major clean freak.
4) My mother and father are Roman Catholic; all of the Christian right’s sexual ethics are fucked-up as far as I’m concern but Roman Catholicism is even more messed up then the far right norm. For one thing, no contraception allowed and every act must be open to life (translation: all ejaculations must occur inside the vagina). Stop and think how limited you sexual repertoire becomes at this point.
Those four are proof enough but lately I’ve had the horror of having this conclusion be re-affirmed. One problem my dad has as his condition deteriorates is urinary incontinence. Adult diapers work… until he starts moving around in bed and… I’ll just let this following exchange between me and one of my niece sum things up
Niche: Why are you guys always taking so much about pampers.
Me: I hope you never have to understand
How does this relate to my parents having a terrible sex life (before my dad became ill of course)? Because, during the course of finding a way to mange this dilemma. I’ve gotten to hear these lovely quotes (Note: the primary language in my house in Spanish so all of these are translated):
MOM: “You’re going to have to change those pampers I’ve never touched that thing”
Me: “That thing”? If you never touched that thing how did me and your other children come into being?”
MOM: “That was different it was dark and I just laid there”
Me: “Mom, considering how much of a clean freak you are how did you end up having multiple children. Its kind of a messy process from the start.”
MOM: “That was different God commanded me to do that”
Me: Don’t use think it weird that I have more contact with your husband’s penis then you do?
Mom: *still refusing to change absorbent adult undergarment* I haven’t touched that penis in over 18 years; I’m not going to start now.
Me: Running out the door explaining I had to get to class so she was just going to have to endure the indignity of seeing her own husband’s penis again, for the first time in two decades apparently.
A personal note: I had this written for a while and was saving it for a lull in my posting habits but roughly three hours ago I had a harsh reminder about how terrible the quality of my parents marriage is so I decided to post it now. I don’t know if I’ll ever go in depth regarding why me and mother also have a poor relationship and why I made the conscious decision to emotionally and mentally distance myself from her but that is becoming increasingly likely as it may have been the wisest decision I have ever made. This essay might help you understand a bit.