I slept about 4 1/2 hours last night (I made a last-minute decision to see Super Furry Animals at Metro) and for breakfast, all I've had is a tankard of coffee. hence, I am giddy and dervish-like, especially having just spent the past 20 minutes with Amy, trading stories about finding evidence of parents' sex lives. since it's cruel to just say we were talking about that and to not provide a story or two, I will offer up my own.

when I was really young (and ever since), I was a late-nighter and would just stay up and sit at the top of the stairs, listening to what my parents were watching on TV, or I'd read, or just be awake, waiting to fall asleep. I used to sleep on my bedroom floor from time to time, just to mix it up, because I shared a room with my sister when we lived in our old house and sometimes I didn't want to sleep on the top bunk. one night, when I was about 7 or 8 years old, I guess, I was just laying awake in the bed I'd made on the floor, next to the door, which led to the lighted hallway. I heard the approaching sounds of my dad barking like a dog and my mom laughing, closed my eyes so it looked like I was sleeping, but opened them just the smallest bit to see them both on all fours, crawling through the hallway, heading into their bedroom. at the time I was like, "huh, weird, they're sure having fun," but when I got older (like, my junior or senior year in high school), I remembered witnessing that and realized what it really meant. good times.

I also remember finding condoms in my dad's sock drawer when I was in elementary school (5th grade, I believe) and taking one to school with me to show the boys. I was a demure child.

other parents-and-sex-related stories:

one of my elementary school friends and I used to rifle through her parents' bottom dresser drawer, which contained such items as titless bras, crotchless panties, and a variety of other sheer and lacy things. also, they owned "The Joy of Sex," which we pored through constantly.

after going to church one Sunday, Stacey and her sister came home to find their parents having sex on the living room couch.

I know of someone who's found ass beads in their parents' drawers.

that's all I can think of for now.

oh yeah, my grandma once said something to my aunt in a vague reference to having sex with my grandpa. I can't remember the exact wording now (need to check on that), but my aunt told me and my uncle (their son) what my g-ma had said at the same time, while we were eating, and Brian and I both dropped our forks and screamed so loud. I think it was one of the most shockingly horrifying things I'd ever heard in my life. their two little daughters were at the table too, and although they didn't know what was going on, they both started laughing and squealing because they thought it was funny. I've gotta ask my aunt what that story was exactly when I see her at Thanksgiving. it causes me discomfort, but sharing helps the healing.

in other news, two separate people have called me "blondie" over the past two days. grrrrrr!