Xander ,'Touched'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
At least LJ has custom filters--you can put your family on your friends, and then have a "OMGnotfamilyRealInfo" filter or some shit.
For the record, all of y'all fall under my fillter "Internet Ax Murderers". Though I really only use that when I don't want my sister or her friends to see something. I am v. lax about this shit.
At some point, you're very likely to find out your offspring's orientation -- if for no other reason, when you're introduced to boyfriends, girlfriends, or some of each.
That's exactly why I'd want to know. If my kid finds someone who loves her and with whom she wants to build a life, I want her to feel safe bringing that person home to meet us, and I want that person to feel safe with us, whatever gender that person is.
And, hell, if Matilda's teens are anything like mine were, I want her to feel safe to come to me whimpering for mommy-cuddling and comfort when this or that unrequited crush has stomped on her heart, without feeling like she has to be cagey and dishonest and avoid all gender-specific pronouns so that I won't flip out like a mammal.
Mostly I hope that her teens are nothing like mine, but if they are I want her to feel safe pouring out her woes to me.
I agree that parents really have no business knowing what their offspring like to do in bed (or other preferred locations).
This, exactly.
I have a friend whose mother took her to dinner to celebrate friend's losing of her virginity.
My mother gave me a commemorative plate when I got my first period, and it almost killed me. If ita's friend's mother were my mother, I think I'd have to shoot myself into outer space.
I am all for telling parents what they want to hear when its none of their damn business anyway. (Particularly if they are far far away).
And I'm all for telling them those things well after a situation has relaxed a bit.
Exhibit A: I waited until I went to college to have sex so this would not be a family topic. Got to start all that in privacy. Years later acknowledged it.
A commemorative PLATE? Oh dear.
A commemorative PLATE?
Okay, that's horrific, and hysterical.
Do you stil have the plate, JZ?
The most notable thing about me starting my period was that it was very late--but just in time. Mere days before my appointment with a developmental specialist to find out what the hell was wrong with me.
A commemorative PLATE?
I have to know: was it red?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEENA!
I have to know: was it red?
No. But it had a pussy on it. It was at least a dark and arty cat plate, not an Umbridgesque kitten plate.
I might still have it. I don't know. I'm afraid to look.
And, in much nicer news, Happy Birthday, Deena!
Oh my Jesus, JZ.
Fred, that's an excellent point. Not that I think it was meant in that sense, but it's a good reminder of places where it's good to be more exact in our language.
...And while I was writing that post my little sister called and started telling me about things she bought at a sex shop last night. NOT LISTENING.