The other night, after my man & I indulged in a particularly [ahem] expressive bit of intimacy, the Boy knocked upon our bedroom door. We said he could come in; he poked his head around the door and said, "Is Mom alright?"
Snicker. "Yes, I'm alright," I answered.
"Oh. I thought she might be passing out again."
More snickering from the grown-ups. "Nope, I'm okay. But thanks for checking on me, bub."
"Okay. So what were you doing anyway?" he asked, sidling up to the bed.
"Making out," I told him. I hadn't quite completed the word out when he actually recoiled and left the room calling, "Ewww. Good night!"
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