My dignity...:(
Last Friday, I volunteered to be a Mass driver for SnarkGirl's school. They go every Friday, and uf the weather is nice, they walk. If it rains, they ask parents who can help to ferry kids to and fro.
I made two trips hauling kids, and made a last pass to grab a couple of the teachers. I ended up with Dr. Beardy (the Headmaster), Dr. Philo (the history and philosophy teacher) and Mr. Mink (the maths and Latin teacher). As we made the five-minute drive, Dr. Beardy decided to turn on the radio to catch something on KYW...
Of course, at this point, I should mention that I like to play my music loud when I am in the car alone, and that my taste in music is eclectic at best. Frankly, iTunes + blank CDs + my musical tastes = some seriously obnoxious mix CDs for personal car consumption.
Which is why these three austere, staid and learned gentlemen were blasted by Depeche Mode's "Master and Servant" as soon as he turned on the stereo. Dr. Beardy's flailing for the "skip" button did not improve matters when the next song to come blaring out was Nine Inch Nails' "Closer."
Oh, dear.
Once the noise was dispensed with, an awkward silence fell over the car. Until Mr. Mink started to giggle. Dr. Philo, sounding impressed, whispered, "Told you she was probably freaky." Dr. Beardy smirked a great deal and uttered some suspiciously-chuckle-sounding coughs.
God damn it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
SnarkGirl is getting to That Age. She has Questions. Generally, I encourage her to ask away, and do my best to answer honestly and completely -- and most importantly, without embarrassment.
Of course, I try to encourage her to ask her questions discreetly. This does not always compute in a pre-teen's mind, though. A couple of months ago, she asked her Daddy what "the big deal about penises was," nearly causing him to chock on his pot pie and collapse in a puddle of embarrassment.
At dinner last night, she busted out one of her most burning questions: "So, Mommy, Daddy...do you guys still have sex, or what?"
Followed by OctoBoy's perking up to ask, "What's sex?"
And Ginger Beastie chanting, "Sex, sex, sex...."
Calvin's Dad just about stroked out, right there at the table. I also was taken aback a bit. He harrumphed something along the lines of "Theology of the Body! The marriage covenant! Healthy relations!" and excused himself.
I just looked her in the eye and said, "Yeah."
"Oh."
"What's the ...."
"Let's continue this discussion after dinner, in the privacy of your room, hmm?"
"Oh, OK. Is Daddy OK?"
"I think he just needs a minute, babe."
