My daughter is one of the oddest people I know, and I rank number one, so we get along pretty well. I had her in high school, so we grew up together, really. We're pretty close, so it’s odd to me that the only fight we’ve really ever had was about her being a bisexual woman.
Last year, she was dating a girl named Odessa, and they were very happy, and in love. Which was gross, and it wasn’t because they were same sex, it was gross because they’re young, and they kiss like people who have NO kissing skills. (Pantomime Teen Kissing Skills, stick out tongue, waggle head around spastically).
So, Odessa was going to spend the night at our place, and my daughter wanted her to sleep in her room, in her bed. And, I wasn’t having it.
“But, Mooooom.” She said, drippingly condescending, with the parenthetical ‘(asshole)’ floating in the sky above her head. I swear, the word balloon above her head literally read, “Mom, you asshole!”
“Mooooom, (you asshole), it’s not like we’re going to get pregnant.” And, I knew that was a dig, ‘cause I had her as a teenager, and she knows that’s always been a fear of mine. It didn’t matter, I wasn’t in.
“You’re the one who is bisexual, and thus, Odessa is no different that if she were Oscar, and I wouldn’t let a boy do that. It’s crazy-pants to think I’d endorse underage sex. I’m still your mother. “
“Moooooom! You’re so not cool.” She said.
Me? Me, not cool? Oh My God.
I was in French Club in high school. I was on the chess team. I watched Clarissa Explains It All. I had glasses, braces, and a perm in my Mexican hair. I was 320lbs. the year we graduated. I’ve never, once in this life, been cool.
But… At least I’m not a virgin.
I'm Jane Malone.