Proof of why I think I should disown my family. One of my cousins, Anna is 15 and has already gotten in trouble (that’s what happens when the nice police officer finds you having a threesome in the back of a Buick. A Buick! I mean, of all of the class-less cars!) so now her mom makes the rest of the family babysit her constantly. And it was my turn a few days ago.


I took her to my place while her mom went out grocery shopping, intending to distract her with TV. She started to grab a banana from my fridge and I stopped her.

“Sorry Anna, that’s my dinner.” She shrugged, then walked into my bedroom and catapulted onto my bed, turning to me. “So, seeing anyone?”

“None of your damn business. Come on, let’s watch House until your mom picks you up.” I said, starting to walk back into the living room.

“Hmm, didn’t think so. It’s sad, how some people are in such denial.” I turned around. “Oh, everyone in the family thinks you’re a lesbian.” Seriously, this rumor has been going around since I was 16. No clue why, I love men. Literally find myself drooling over them.

“Well, I’m not. Let’s watch House.” The last thing I need is for the family to think I’m gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Just that I really don’t want them quoting religious stuff at me and trying to “save” me. I have enough legitimate problems with them (I’m an atheist, I don’t bring boyfriends home, I forget their birthdays) without adding problems that aren’t real on top of it.

“Oh really? So who are you seeing?” She seriously wasn’t going to give up, so I plopped myself on the bed next to her.

“Do you remember how my mom reacted to RockStar’s past girlfriends?” Anna nodded. “That’s why I don’t bring men home, my mom would freak out. You should have seen her when I was with Pretentious Author. She used to hide condoms in my clothes, purse, make up bag…all over the place. ‘Just in case’. Like I can’t buy my own. Then there were the pregnancy tests that started appearing in my bathroom. Just because she had two accidental pregnancies doesn’t mean I will.” Yes, I was an accident. But I’m sure you’re glad that my parent’s had an “oops” moment, otherwise I wouldn’t be here entertaining you right now. Or maybe no one is reading this….

“Psssst. I bet you don’t have any protection. I bet you’re more celibate than a nun.” Well, she has me there. I’ve made out with HOTTT, but haven’t gotten any in too long. But I’m not admitting that to a 15 year old who has threesomes.

“I do, because I’m an adult. And responsible. And afraid of having accidental children. OK? Are we done mocking me now?”

“Why would you have protection if you weren’t seeing someone?”

“Fine, I’m seeing someone, but it’s not serious. What season do you want to watch? Of House. This moment. Because this conversation is over.”

“Fine, I believe you have condoms, but I don’t bet you can’t even remember how to put one on.”

“What? Dude, it takes 20 seconds. It’s three steps at most. It’s like riding a bike, you don’t just forget.”

“Psssst. You haven’t dated anyone seriously since Jarhead, so it’s been like a year. You’re old, I bet you forgot.” Note: I am NOT old. Twenty – freaking – three is not old.

“Seriously Anna? You don’t forget. You don’t forget how to do it, you don’t forget the first time you try in class and you certainly don’t forget the first time you try on a guy.” Yeah, and if you’re as dumb as me, you really don’t forget the first time you put one on a guy. I clapped and practically patted myself on the back. It was awkward when I realized he was staring at me. I’m lame, I know.

“So prove it! “

“I don’t have a man just lying around here to shove a condom on.”

“What about your vibrator?” I started to open my mouth to respond and then stopped.

“Anna, we are not having this conversation.” I stood up and she quickly grabbed my arm.

“Fine. Sorry.” She looked at the ceiling, “You have a banana.”

“Are we in Jr. High? That’s lame.” Oh wait, she’s in high school. Why I thought arguing with a teenager would work, I don’t know.

“Scared? Afraid I’m right?” Goading me works, apparently.

“If I prove to you that I have condoms and can put one on a banana, then can we watch House?”

“Yes.” I jumped up, grabbed the offending banana and walked back into my room. I pulled open my side table and riffled around, trying to block Anna’s view of my stuff. I pulled out a condom.

“So, you aren’t having sex but just happen to have a drawer full of sex stuff?”

“I was never a girl scout, but I do put safety first. And if you don’t get your hand out of my side drawer, I will slam your fingers in it.” Her hand popped out. “If you can find an adult with a side table that has no sex stuff in it, I’ll give you $5.”

“What else do you have in there?” I shook my head at her and tore open the condom. It’s no one’s damn business what I keep in that drawer. I certainly wasn’t going to show her those handcuff that I was still trying to connect to my headboard. I quickly covered the banana with the condom and presented it to her.

“Ew, I’m not touching that, it’s covered in lube!”

Suddenly, I froze. She grinned at me. She tricked me into covering my dinner with lube. Fricken bitch. I hate my family.

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