That is until my father told me he was reading it.
Now, I’m not a prude, nor is anyone in my family. But we all have a quiet understanding that I’m a virgin, Ivan was a virgin until he was married, as was Lana who is now saving herself for her next husband, and that our parents had sex only three times. It works for us, because, let’s be honest, thinking about a family member having sex is disturbing.
This bubble was burst when I climbed into my father’s jeep and he asked, “Have you heard of the book, Fifty Shades of Grey?”
“I have. It is basically porn (I can’t say erotica to my father). You don’t want to read it.”
“I already started it.”
I made an incredulous face.
“Your mom bought it. She said you recommended it and I thought it was gonna be like the Hunger Games.”
“I did not recommend that book to Mom. I told Lana to read it. She must have told Mom about it.”
“Well, Kid, let me tell you, you shouldn’t read it. You aren’t gonna get past Chapter Two before you run out of your apartment and just grab the first guy you see and drag him back to your place.”
I swallow back vomit.
“And I am sure as hell not going to let your mother read it.”
I give him a sideways glance at “let.”
“I’m an old man. I don’t think I could keep up with her. I would have to call friends in to help. You know that Viagra commercial with the warning about a four hour…”
“Dad! Stop!” I couldn’t stomach hearing him say the word erection. Just hearing Viagra was enough.
Now, sometimes after a night of drinking I won’t remember the details of certain conversations. I immediately started drinking hoping that would be the case here. Sadly it wasn’t, though I still continue to drink in hopes of erasing that conversation from my memory.