"I Hope When I'm Their Age, I'm Still Nailing my Wife"

I don't like to think about my parents having sex. I assume they do. But I don't want to hear about it. I'm glad the Butcher is so nonchalant about it. I'm glad he enthusiastically approves. But not me. I prefer strict boundaries between their sex lives and mine. I know that and they know that. But that did not stop there from being a point tonight over dinner when I realized that my parents were discussing their sex life in front of the Professor. Really, America, what has this family come to? Are we now discussing all of our most intimate moments with our family members' friends? Am I obliged to call up the other Reverend and explain the myriad ways I went fumbling around young stoners in my parents' basement in high school? Because I cannot do that. No matter how much they think chatty jokes about "knobs" are acceptable, I cannot talk about sex with my parents' friends or with my parents, especially not in front of the Professor. Still, if it had to come to this, I'm glad that I am not the only person who has to have the image of old minister/old school teacher sex seared onto her brain.