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.










