Parental Prejudices (and puppies!)

I haven’t told my parents that I’ve started stripping but I have hinted. Heavily. So I figure they’ll figure it out when their brains let them piece it together.  This is what our conversations sound like now:

Mom: So what are you up to this weekend?
Me: I'm doing my first intermediate pole class Friday, Saturday I go on a date with a lovely lady and Sunday I’m getting my bikini line lasered.
Mom: Oh, how did you two meet?
Me: At a strip club.
Mom: Oh Ladyface.
Me: Mom there’s nothing wrong with dancing.
Mom: But it’s so gross, all those dirty old men.
Me: When was the last time you went to a strip club?
Mom: Never!
Me: Well I’ve been to about 20 and there are some I’d never go back to but there are several in town that are actually pretty great. Safe, fun, sex positive.
Mom: Eww. Just promise me you’ll never take your clothes off.
Me: [silence]
Mom: Ladyface! You’d never do that. Right?!
Me: I’m still gonna shower.
Mom: [laughing] Oh my god, you scared me.

Maybe she never has to know. But she’s already pestering me about finding a job in SF. And she’s concerned that I can’t afford to move. Really, I could move today if I wanted to but I’m committed to my day job through May. Ironically the club I work at is a hell of a lot safer than the dive bar I bartended at and she was thrilled when I started there.

So…I dunno. Is coming out necessary? Who does it serve? Is it selfish to come out if the alternative is just enduring a bit more well-meaning nagging than usual? My mum is a CPA and does my taxes so I suppose she’ll find out next year when I’ll have tax documents from the club I’m working at and clips4sale.  Unless I can come up with a good excuse to take care of that stuff myself.

On a lighter note, we talked about the Favorite Child: 

Mom: The Doodle doesn’t like other dogs very much. He’s more of a people person.
Me: Mom, your dog isn’t a person.
Mom: Oh, yes. Well, you know what I mean. 

Later in the same call:

Me: Dad, I’m hungry, what should I eat?
Dad: Peanut butter! Doodle and I really like peanut butter.
Me: I was thinking more like a meal.
Dad: ...peanut butter and jelly?

Oh parents. I love how much you love that pretty pup.  =3 

And if there were a backwards three on the keyboard that would look more like a dog bone.

*image from labradoodleoftheday.com

The New Favorite Child

This past summer one of my parents neighbors, a man in his 50's, dropped dead of a heart attack.  My mum called me to tell me the news and to share how she and dad were dealing with it.  Apparently their verbal processing eventually reached a logical conclusion.  In mum's words: "We just said, 'Fuck it, life's short.  Let's get a Labradoodle.' " 


The parents got The Doodle a couple months ago and he has quickly become the new favorite child. 

Evidence of Favorite Child Status:

1. The Doodles headshot is the biggest picture on the living room family photo wall.  It’s significantly larger than even the human childrens’ senior portraits.

2. [spoiler alert: ...this is where it gets weird] My dad asked if I could spin The Doodle’s fur into yarn to be made into a sweater when he gets his first haircut.  (really)  I told him that would be creepy but possible.  Mum rolled her eyes but dad looked pensive.  I won’t be surprised if I get a bag of Doodle fur in the mail in the next couple months to comb, spin, ply and knit.  

3. When I called my mum last week to find out how my 25 year old brother was doing after his nose surgery this is how the conversation went:

Me: Hey, how’s my brother doing?

Mom: Oh he’s great!  We just gave him a bath.

Me: Eww.  Mom.  What?

Mom: Oh!  You mean your human brother.  He’s good.  He’s got drugs and TiVo.

Me: Oh good.

Mom: And your other brother just learned to fetch the paper and to ring a bell when he needs to poop!  He’s a genius!  I’ll send you a video.