Before we develop our Reader-Writer relationship any further, I think it’s important for you to know that it’s not only dating/romance situations in which I find myself feeling awkward – there are plenty of other dilemmas I find myself in too.
For some reason I thought that might make me sound less socially-retarded, but perhaps it only reinforces that further?! Oops. At least you all know that you don’t have to date me to experience the wonder that is DilEmma’s world. How very inclusive of me.
Dinner tables (well, they’re not really dinner tables I suppose, for fear that lunch, breakfast and intermittent snacks might feel left out) are a place for sharing about your day at work, talking about current affairs, eating good food and enjoying each other’s company. Except if, like me, you live alone in which case it’s a place for thinking about your day at work, eating good food (or possibly tinned soup with soldiers) and alarming yourself with the realisation that you just spoke aloud to your toaster named Ken.
Anyway, before the days of living on my own I once boarded with a dear family who were kind enough to welcome me into their beautiful Samoan family, despite my fluro-translucent white tan and tendency to snigger whenever I heard the term ‘lamb flaps’. We ate many a meal (not just lamb flaps, don’t worry) around their table and laughed more than most adults do. On several occasions however, the table was abruptly abandoned as their Mum asked me a question, leaving me with the dilemma of how to answer. Here’s a taster of what I was asked (apologies for any inappropriate language, and if you can read in a Samoan accent, even better):
- “Hey Emma, what’s oral sex?”
- “Emma – you know thrush? Soooo itchy eh!?”
- “You know Emma, why do girls buy pads? They are too expensive eh? You know what you should do – buy the nappies and cut it up. Much cheaper eh!”
- “Emma, what’s a cunt mean? I call my boss that all the time but I don’t know what it means.”
- “Emma, you think you can buy me some of that (referring to the KY warming gel currently being advertised on TV) for my knee? I think it’s good for gout?”
My approach was to answer with total honesty as it’s not like you can say anything like “I’ll explain when you’re older dear”, or “go ask your father”.
I suppose it was all good practice for the days when I’m raising my own children. Or perhaps I’ll just stick with Ken the toaster and his toasty soldiers!