Last night Mo’ and I were watching a film that had a young, mature woman as the star lead.  This woman’s character is single and was out on a date.  After showing the date , they skipped to a scene  that showed the woman (in a t-shirt/PJs)  asleep in the bed with the date laying next to her with an arm draped over her body – hugging her.  One can assume, and Mo’ did correctly, that they “spent the night together”.   It was very ‘G’ rated and no dodgy steamy sex-capades.  So settle down Mo-Freedom Fighters.  However,  Mo’ obviously thinks there is an age limit for slumber parties:

Mo:  “Um. What are they doing?”

Me: [heart beating rapidly] “Waking up?”

Mo:  “Did they actually spend the night together?”

Me:  [sitting upright and searching for Hub’s rescue] “Yes.  I guess they did.  They had a sleep over”

Mo’:  “A sleep over?”

 About three minutes passed and I thought I was in the clear.  We were not going to have “THE TALK”.   Yahooey!  Holy Mother of Pearl–Lacking-the-Wisdom, the Crisis was Averted.  For now!  The infamous Marvelous Mo’ HOWEVER must always rear its ugly head… Mo’ then  squared up on me, with a look as if the secret to the universe had revealed itself — “Oh Shit. Oh Shit. Oh Shit”.  Duck and Cover, M3, Duck and Cover!

 Mo’: “Why the heck are they having sleep overs.. that lady is like 30 years old or something.  Some people need to grow up!”

Me:  “Yes they do Mo’.  Yes they do.  I think you need to stay young for a while longer to enjoy those sleepovers with your… [oh frack]… your…your…[find the word, find the word dammit]… girlfriends.  Right?” 

That movie aged me, and Mo’, about 15 years.