Hi. So, I'm ammogirl, and I was crazy enough to tell Miss D I'd cover for her while she off was getting her Burner wings. Crazy, because I can barely find enough interesting material to write about in my own damn blog, crazy because Indy, whose guest posts I have the honor of following, actually knows how to write well and with humor, crazy because I don't use Blogger myself, and I tend to have bad luck with things I'm not familiar with. If things look broken, I'm the dumbass who did it.
Regardless, here we are, you and I, so I suppose we should make a go of it, shouldn't we?
On with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One of the things I am the most puzzled about in regards to my parents is the bizarre term they had for my girlie parts when I was growing up. Now, before I go on, I would like to point out that I am 36 years old, and my parents have never ever had a sex talk with me. Ever. This has resulted in a very strange backwards relationship between me and them in regards to sex and it's various euphemisms. They revel in my horrified blushes and blank stares, brought on by their references to 'making love' and whipped cream and power tools. "Dear," my dad says, "look! look at your daughter! she's blushing, har har har." Har har indeed. I want to chastise them for being so disgusting, but in doing so, I would be acknowledging the act of fornication to them, and this is something I will never be able to do.
Because! It's their fault! Which brings me back to my original story: The Term.
I was raised sort of weird. I couldn't say butt. I couldn't say fart. I couldn't even say the word 'poop', which I'm sure is the basis of one of my many phobias...but I digress--we are talking about girlie bits. Obviously, if 'poop' could not be used, saying the word 'privates' or 'peepee' or, even worse, 'vagina', was NOT ACCEPTABLE. But I couldn't just call it nothing, so something had to be done.
I like to imagine the day my mom came up with The Term. I sort of picture her at her desk, brow furrowed, puzzled over what inoffensive word could be used...muffin? no...taco? no...urine spigot? noooo...and then, her eyes wander over to a book laying by her hand, a gift for an expecting friend. Needing some distraction from such an intense task, she picks it up, and starts flipping through the pages of baby names, when all of a sudden, one LEAPS off the page at her. Yes! She says to herself, feeling triumphant. This is PERFECT! From henceforth, all female genitalia shall be known as...Nicky!
You guys. Come on. Can you think of anything that could cause more trauma and confusion and misconceptions to a small child of four than christening all vaginas as Nicky? Life was fine until I got to the freakin first grade, where to my absolute horror, I met not one, but two girls named, of course, Nicky.
Obviously, I assumed those girls had awful parents, because who names their kid after THAT? But then I started to slowly realize that it was MY parents who were awful, because who names their vagina after a KID?
Well, this is when I began to realize that my parents just were not down with letting me know anything about S-E-X. Life went on, and nothing changed. Middle school, Junior High, High School...still, no discussions. Perhaps they were hoping that by not talking about it, it would cease to exist, and Nicky would never want to hang out with the likes of say, Dick, or Peter. Who knows, but this silence continued on past graduation into marriage and my first child- whoops! And only then, after I myself was a mom, did they start wanting to talk sex with me. But at this point, um, I was having none of it. This all lead to their discovery in the not-so-distant past that they can embarrass me on demand, and the never-ending quest to do so.
Don't get me wrong--I'm no prude. I talk about sex. Just...not to my parents. Ever.
About ten years ago, my oldest sister got a cat. She named it Nicky. The sheer number of levels at which this is humorous is sublime.
The bottom line, you guys, if you have young kids, don't do this thing to them. To this day, when I hear the word Nicky, it makes me think vagina. And that is...just not right.
And here we are at last: the end. It is so much harder to post on someone else's blog than I could have ever dreamed. I'm just going to close my eyes, hit publish, and run.
Tschuss!!
~~ammogirl
6 comments:
I was given the proper terms but was really thrown for a little while when I was told my grrandfather had angina. It was just close enough that I was thinking I'd really, really misunderstood something.
OMG! I'm laughing my parts off Ammo! Ty for that : )
I love this story! And I love to tell it, too. I hope your parents feel properly chastened!
treens: You are a fucking crack up. So are your parents. I need to order some chocolate from them just so I can chat up your mom again and ask her why she intentionally messed you up. Har har indeed!
popeye: That is funny! I don't recall having 'the talk' w/ my folks, just the adopted one when I was about 7 w/ Mom. But I was a pretty quick kid and I think I figured it out. Well.. let's hope anyway.
megan: That girl is funny. I have no idea how I'm going to follow her now.
kario: Her parents? Chastined?! As if! I bet they are having the biggest laugh right now. But I love this story too.
Oh yay! You're home! Why have you not posted yet?
Welcome back! I missed you.
Ha ha ha - my parents never talked to us about sex either. The nearest my mum got was "be good" and my dad waited until he was in a car with my brothers, driving so he didn't have to look them in the eye, and told them if happened he and mum would feel like they were responsible so it was up to them to be careful... if this makes no sense, it was all because a friend of my brother's had just got his girlfriend pregnant and been spurned by his parents so it was all really rather sweet. Thankfully they never gave anything any dubious names; I was rather disturbed when I found out that next door's kids called it a "front bottom". To me that's ALL wrong.
Anyway, welcome back Miss Devylish!
Post a Comment