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27 March 2006 @ 05:56 pm
existence = motion?  
I have returned to school, and the life that I have created for myself apart from the roiling mass of family that is mine. I love them all, but they are like a herd of drunken bear cubs -- adorable, dangerous, and somewhat insane as a concept. I have internet for the first time in almost a week, which is nice, and yet somehow does not actually make it easier to get the things done that I need to get done (witness: I am LJ-ing instead of _______ <--- insert thing I need to do there).

I simply had to share the horror, though. And the horror is this:

I am rifling through my mother's desk, looking for a lighter, as I plan to go outside and sneak a cigarette behind the garage as though I was fourteen years old out of the desire to be a Positive Role Model for the Siblets, who are all still very impressionable and treat me as though I am a god and they are my creepy and troubling cult, chanting in front of pictures of me and repeating the wisdom that I have handed down to them ("Dude, don't eat that shit, it will give you gas," forever and ever amen). Now, in a desk, most people keep pens. Most people keep paper. Most people keep odds and ends.

My mother, apparently, keeps condoms and lube in her desk. I found this out by opening The Wrong Drawer and finding the offending items. My response was to slam the drawer shut, throw up my hands, shriek "Unclean! Unclean! God, unclean!" as I ran from the room. I still have this full body shudder thing happening as I think of it.

As a dutiful child would, I want my mother to be happy. I want her to be in a good relationship, with someone who will hold her hand, and watch Antiques Roadshow with her, and cuddle with her. This cuddling is to be fully clothed, you understand. Any and all kissing would have to be church appropriate kissing. Behind closed doors, they would discuss art or play chess or simply dissolve into balls of white light. I don't think about it too hard, and with good reason -- which is that she is my mother. Perhaps I'm too sensitive, but "mother" and "condom" belong nowhere near one another in any configuration of words.

The horror, I say, the horror.
Current Mood: rushedrushed
cranberryink on March 27th, 2006 11:07 pm (UTC)
The horror, indeed. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
Adoable Frunk: underpants mockery!lyra_sena on March 27th, 2006 11:46 pm (UTC)
As a dutiful podlet, you want to come back online.

existence=underpants mockery!
Alexandra Lynchalexandralynch on March 28th, 2006 12:04 am (UTC)
(Snicker) I understand your trauma.

It was in a similar way that I found out my father was a crossdresser.
Teeny Gozer: Give her a pony!teenygozer on March 28th, 2006 12:30 am (UTC)
Ack! I should think that would have acted as aversion therapy for the smoking... or possibly exacerbated it!
Mayhem Parva: gay marriageraincitygirl on March 28th, 2006 02:01 am (UTC)
For a very, very long time, I was convinced that my mother had only had sex six times in her life (she has three kids, and has had three miscarriages). However, this happy illusion of mine was ruined some years ago when I asked her (when she was a bit tipsy) why she and my father had not divorced earlier than they did. She informed me that "Even after we were fighting all the time, the sex was still good." Like I really needed to hear that.

At least your mom has the decency to try and HIDE the condoms. I mean, she's traumatizing you by having a sex life, but she's not forcing it upon you and refusing to let you be in denial as long as you don't stumble across any incriminating evidence.

Glad you're back at school and not surrounded by siblets who oppress you with their impressionable nature. They must be really tapped for role models to find you impressive, though. Do you come from a very small town or something?
Jack Pride: JV: kayleeeyes (iconicalchaos)jack_pride on March 29th, 2006 05:29 am (UTC)
At least your mom has the decency to try and HIDE the condoms.


My mom once had me wait in the car while she ran into the drugstore to pick up her prescription for sheepskin condoms, because she's allergic to latex. I was about twelve.

I suspect I'm the only person in the world who's not bothered by the idea of her parents having sex, because if I were I would have spontaneously combusted long ago. I also know that, on a motorcycle trip about two years ago, they broke a headboard at a hotel they stayed at. I know what kinky thing my mother did to celebrate their 28th anniversary a few months ago. I'll stop there, really.
Mayhem Parvaraincitygirl on March 29th, 2006 05:35 am (UTC)
Oh. My. Gawd.

*falls over*

I would've killed myself. Suddenly my mom doesn't seem so bad.
Meret: elfmeret on March 28th, 2006 08:20 am (UTC)
ROTFL! You're mother is cool. *eg*

*hugs* :)
Veronika: keep smilingkentucka on March 28th, 2006 12:35 pm (UTC)
when I was little, I made the mistake of walking into my mom's bedroom at night... so I pretty much gave up on the balls of white light. it didn't traumatize me, though. toughened, maybe. nothing about her freaks me out anymore *lol*
What the hell is up with the mummy?!: ew! sarahserialkarma on March 28th, 2006 01:55 pm (UTC)
I feel your pain, baby
One night when I was in high school my mother, her then-boyfriend and I went out to dinner. He lent me his jacket because I was cold, and I put my hand in the pocket and what did I find?

millysdaughtermillysdaughter on March 28th, 2006 02:42 pm (UTC)
There are some things we prefer not to know. The sex lives of our parents (and our children) are subjects that belong firmly in that catagory.