My parents’ sex life and a video. I know what you’re thinking.

I’m wondering whether my mom was a floozy in her youth.

A little promiscuous, maybe? A little trampy?

She used to work as an x-ray technician. Who knows what shenanigans occurred when the lights dimmed and radiation flowed freely?

Maybe my dad was a gigolo in his younger days. Was he a player? He did take an awful lot of business trips when I was young. I remember he went to Australia for six weeks one time. He came home with a kangaroo purse for me and a boomerang for Tino and within ten minutes, the boomerang flew through the air and bonked me on the top of my head and I cried.

Maybe he had a double life? Maybe he was bi-coastal in his spare time? Bi-continental?

Because there are a handful of bloggers all over the world who seem to share my DNA. They think the way I think. They do the things I do. They like the things I like. So much so that at one point, I seriously considered stapling my eyes, ears, nose and mouth shut before I went to sleep so that in the morning, after reading their blogs, I would not feel compelled to shriek GET OUT OF MY HEAD at the top of my lungs and thereby scare the bejesus out of my kids. If my kids go to school without their bejesus one more time, they’re going to catch strep. Or lice.

But I realize now that not a single one of these bloggers was graced with the Psyhos nose or the Stavri feet, and they should fall to their knees right this instant and thank God. If their noses entered a room three seconds before the rest of their bodies did on freakishly high arches, I’d be suspicious. But they dont, so I know without a doubt that my father was faithful and that my mother did not secretly have litters of children whom she then scattered all about the earth when my father wasn’t looking.

So apparently, my fellow blogger Beth and I were not, in fact, separated at birth.

I like Beth. She’s funny, she’s kind and she breeds dust bunnies like I do. She’s a good egg, as my mom likes to say.

My mom also likes to say “dungarees” instead of jeans and “suitor” instead of date and “booze” instead of liquor. I just let her. I learned early on that dragging my mother into the 21st century is not unlike getting my kids to clean their bathroom. It’s going to take hours upon hours of nagging and lots of anti-depressants and for what? So the second my back is turned, they can drop trow and fling their dirty skivvies on the curtain rod?

No, thanks. You go right head and tell us you’re “retiring” as you go to bed, Mom. It’s just not worth it.

And yes, I’m perfectly well aware that I have used “skivvies” and “shenanigans” and “floozy” and “gigolo” in this post. You try being raised by my mother and not channeling her every once in awhile. I dare you.

Yesterday, Beth posted this video on her blog and I fell in love with it. It’s probably been all over the web and maybe even TV by now which would not surprise me one bit because I am always the last to know anything. See that loop you’re standing in? I can’t, because I’m way the hell over here.

I told Beth I was going to blog this video because yet again, I have nothing to blog about because I live the most boring life on earth, short of algae.

Excuse me for a second, everyone …

Pssssssssssssst. MOM! THIS IS A VIDEO.  Click the arrow in the middle of the screen to play it, OK? I could also tell you that if you click the bottom right arrow and choose “HQ” you could watch a higher quality version, but I know that will only confuse you, so just click the arrow in the middle of the screen and you’ll be fine. Don’t be scared. And no, I don’t know why Tino isn’t married or why he hasn’t called you. No, I don’t know what’s wrong with your cell phone. Love you.

There’s something about watching people dance that just plain makes me happy. Except when it involves an 82 year old actress flashing her boobs on Dancing with the Stars. Then it makes me throw up in my mouth a little. I won’t name names and I hope Cloris Leachman appreciates my discretion.

Dancing is infectious and how awesome is it to have something infectious that does not involve pus and penicillin and frequent urination?

I’d like to think that if I had been in Liverpool Street Station that day, that I would have left my inhibitions in my luxury hotel room and joined in.

I’d also like to think that I’d have been 40 pounds lighter while doing so. Shhhhhhhhh. It’s my fantasy, OK? Stop interrupting.

And because I’m all about the Who, What, When, Where, Why and How, even when it has nothing to do with the XY chromosomes calling my teenage daughter on the phone, here’s a video about the video:

I swear, I could just listen to the Brits all day.

Beth, what say we take a holiday and cross the pond and talk like Madonna?


Share this post

23 thoughts on “My parents’ sex life and a video. I know what you’re thinking.”

  1. Avatar

    I hadn’t seen that one either! Thanks for sharing it.

    As for your mom, I think she and I should start a club for people who love all kinds of expressions not necessarily from this century. Yesterday I used “gee whiz” a couple of times. Another one that I picked up from reading Jan Karon’s “Mitford” series is, “Rats in a poke!” (which you should reserve for moments of extreme dismay). I have a friend from college who is very disappointed if he asks me how I’m doing and I don’t reply, “peachy keen,” because I used that expression once back in 1981.

    Judging by the expressions you mom does use, I’d guess she is somewhat genteel. Did she by chance drive a roadster in her youth, date Ned Nickerson, have a housekeeper named Hannah Gruen, and/or enjoy going with her chums as a threesome to luncheon?

    Girl, just relax and enjoy. Someday when she’s gone, you’ll be using all of those expressions and smiling in memory every time you do!

  2. Avatar

    I think I may’ve told you before, but my dad also says skivvies and dungarees. All. The. Time. My parents also say “housecoat” for “bathrobe” and if something is very cool, Dad will say it is “sharp” instead. Oh, and my mom? She gets mad enough to “spit wooden nickels” and will have more of something “than Carters has liver pills” which I once actually googled to figure out what the heck that meant.

    I had to google it, you see, because I grew up thinking ALL these turns of phrase were perfectly normal. No, I never caught on that the rest of the kids (cool, sharp or otherwise) back in jr high and high school went around saying things like dungarees or sharp or skivvies. Nor did they ever spit wooden nickels. Yep, I’m pretty sure it was entirely my parents’ fault that I sounded like a WWII era floozy and *that* is what doomed me to lifetime uncoolness. It had nothing to do with the unfortunate fashion choices and more unfortunate hair, Magoo glasses and orthodontia that could easily be seen from outer space, or my penchant for singing showtunes to myself as I walked to my locker. Totally my parents’ fault.

    At least your mom goes on your blog. My mom doesn’t know how to “mouse the icons” and is afraid that if she goes online, her CDs will all catch on fire what with the burner on her computer and all. Plus, she’s afraid that someone will steal her identity if she uses the modem.

    Time to make sure my kid has her skivvies on the right way under her clothes and to throw on some jeans so I’m not up at the bus stop in my housecoat….

  3. Avatar

    What a great video. I hadn’t seen it yet either. Even when you have nothing to blog about your nothing is funny. I’m going to have to go check out your friend. If you think you two are cut from the same cloth… she must be a riot!

  4. Avatar

    Ok, so I log on today and see your post. I click and save it for later, because it’s a snow day, and I have kids yelling at me, and I like to savor your posts.

    And I start reading. And I think, oh, there’s another blogger named Beth that I’ll have to check out. And I keep reading.

    Then, several minutes later . . . I tell you snow days are NOT my best . . . I realize it’s ME!

    Then I start thinking . . . thoughts of me inspired a post about the sex life of your parents?? And now I have to think about the sex life of my parents because, well, how can you not speculate about your own parents peccadilloes after reading about yours? (and yes, I did have to get peccadilloes spell checked)

    So, first, I’ll join you any time for a hop across the pond especially if they have large group dancing, so I can cry in the delight of it all.

    And second . . . I’ll be jamming large pokers through my ears to try to poke out the images of my parents imagined sex life. Thanks for that one!!

    Have a great day Andrea! You made mine!

  5. Avatar

    My mom shares your mother’s vocabulary:
    booze = well, uh booze (I’ve actually picked up that one)

    Thanks for the video – it was so great to watch, and I’m with you, I could listen to the Brits all day, too. I actually dated a guy once, just for the accent.

  6. Avatar

    I’m such a dork! Those videos totally made me cry. I guess seeing a bunch of strangers enjoying life and sharing joy that way makes me a little emotional. Or maybe it’s hormones.

    Either way, thanks for sharing. I love your blog.

  7. Avatar

    Oh my word, just thinking about my parents having sex makes me want to throw myself in the lake.!!!! Well, if it wasn’t completely frozen over. I actually have a “I saw my parents having sex” horror story, and it will haunt me even after I die I’m sure.

  8. Avatar

    Kate, if I could leave an anonymous comment… I would. It would be about something that is as bad or worse than walking in on your folks. Which I did once. But this was worse.

  9. Avatar

    You live a boring life in NYC? Ok, if you say so. I still want to kick myself for not relocating to NYC after college. What happened was I (sigh) fell (sigh) in love. 😐

  10. Avatar

    And here I thought I was your long lost twin. I’m sad. After the week I have had, this is the last straw and I will be curling up in the fetal position and suck my thumb (right after I finish a pound of double stuff oreos).

  11. Avatar

    Love this! I’ve seen the first video before, but it was great to watch the video behind the video! My mom doesn’t really have any momisms, but she does have this characteristic cackle laugh that I always found so embarrassing as a kid and somehow in the last few years I will be laughing and all of a sudden I hear her cackle laugh coming out of MY mouth – it creeps me out every single time and suddenly things aren’t quite as funny.

  12. Avatar

    Dungarees? Now that’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time!!! My grandma is the same way…she still uses words from way back in her day and I have no clue what she’s talking about!!! Loved the video…makes me wanna dance too!

    I’m hosting a giveaway on my blog – come check it out!

  13. Avatar

    LOL! ok I’ll admit it..saw that title and thought “ewwwwewww!!”

    Love the video!! LOVE the accent!! Also love, Aussie and Irish accents!! ahh… 🙂

  14. Avatar

    Wicked, Wicked, Wicked in the truest of teen speak!! I’ve not seen that ad before, just wicked and watching the making of it was fantastic, love it, love it, love it!!


  15. Pingback: T-Mobile in Trafalgar Square with Hey Jude |

  16. Pingback: The Sound of Music in Antwerp Central Station |

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *