This morning, while on the phone with my mom, I mentioned that I had ordered a new sleeping bag for my upcoming camping trip, and she asked if it zips together with Rob's. I said it didn't, and I really didn't need it to. Then she said, "But then you can't make whoopee!"
Now, use of the word whoopee is, frankly, disturbing enough. Who says that? But the disturbance did not end there. I say to her, "The kid is sleeping right next to me!" and she says, "So?"
So. So! I started to rub my forehead with my fingers and said, "Please don't tell me that you and Dad did it in the tent while I was sleeping right next to you." In my head, I'm begging, pleading, in fact, not to hear what I'm about to hear, but she says, "Of course!"
Of Course. Of Course! I was verbally aghast, and all she had to say was, "Its natural! The kids are asleep, and if they wake up, you just tell them you're doing your exercises."
I'm not sure if I could have felt more dirty if I were actually camping at the time.
Am I a prude? Does everyone have sex in their tent with their kids sleeping right next to them? Am I missing out on something? Rob pointed out that if she was so comfortable under these circumstances, why did she need sleeping bags that zipped together? Why didn't they just unzip two singles and do it that way? It is dark in there, after all. My mom later pointed out that all the other campers can hear you, so you have to keep it down. WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?
In other news, there was a black Cadillac Escalade inching out of a parking space we wanted this weekend, and Leila was heard to say, "Move your black ass." Who raised this child?