As I sit here, eating a Jimmy John’s Beach Club Sandwich (no tomato, easy on the mayonnaise) I cannot help but be angry with my mother.
It’s a Freudian field day.
I was just a young jarbaby once, 12 or 13, and believe it or not, I had no interest in boys or sex or indeed even thinking about how babies were made or what made a blow job a blow job when you were actually supposed to suck.
I was reading Little House on the Prairie and The Pistachio Prescription for the love of the Lord.
But I was 12 or 13, and my sister was seven. She had recently been SPOKEN TO STERNLY for touching herself inappropriately for public consumption. It was made clear that it was something you did in private time and not to finger yourself at Thanksgiving dinner. So my sister’s vigorous and youthful masturbation made my parents decide we should have a hip, happening sex talk, complete with a god damn video of how babies are made and what it means to MAKE LOVE vs. HAVING SEX
(PERHAPS THIS IS WHY, TO THIS DAY I FUCKING HATE THE TERM MAKING LOVE.)
So after sitting through this video and being forced to comprehend that my parents DID these things and my dad had a penis that became ‘engorged with blood’ I was ready to jump off the god damn roof without a moment’s hesitation, even though I had not yet met and married Ricky Schroeder.
Finally the talk was over because my sister was in need of going to bed and I was in need of a scotch, even though I had no idea what that meant.
Thinking I was off the hook, I went to help my mom do some stuff in the kitchen, when she began cleaning off the dinner dishes…and excitedly called me over.
“J-bird! Look at this!” She pointed to a small gathering of alfalfa sprouts at the bottom of the sink. I felt my soul ebbing from my body, tears springing to my eyes.
“Yes MOTHER? WHAT ABOUT IT?”
“What does that look like???” She asked, thinking she was awfully clever.
I sighed, prayed for the second coming, looked around for a butcher knife and said,
“Sperm”
"Right! Sperm! Alfalfa Sprouts look just like that. God created sperm as little sprouts of people sort of! When you eat Alfalfa sprouts…it’s like…
CERTAINLY YOU’VE ALREADY GUESSED THIS PART, BUT I TYPE IT ANYWAY…
“It’s like you ARE EATING SPERM.”
“thank you mother,” I said. “I’ll never forget that.”
And so today, when I got a mouthful of alfalfa sprouts in my sandwich…I was angered.
sickened.
And a tiny bit aroused.
Damn you mother. Why.