*cringe*

So I’ve been out of home for about three and a half years now – living on my own in my pad in the heart of Sandton. I love my place because it’s completely and utterly mine. Everything in it belongs to me and its in the place that I want it to be.

 

Initially I decided I wasn’t going to hire someone to help me clean-up. When I first moved in I was a student and had all the time in the world on my hands to dust, vacuum, scrub and polish. Now that I’m working, cleaning is the last thing on my mind when I get home at the end of the day. As a result, my parents’ helper has been coming around once a week to help out. My mom comes through to my apartment and opens my place up for him.

 

So after work yesterday I gave my mom a call on my way home to find out if everything went fine with the cleaning up. Towards the end of the conversation she casually slipped in – “Oh – before I forget, I put some letters that came for you in the top drawer next to your bed”.

 

I froze.

 

Surely everyone knows, that no parent should ever, I repeat, EVER go into their daughter’s bedside drawer. The bedside drawer is home to all things that daughters would like to keep out of sight from their parents – in fact out of sight from anyone who isn’t in bed with them.

 

Contents included:

 

2 x condoms – so much worse than an unopened box of condoms, because now my mother knows that if I had a three pack – I’ve had sex at least once… which is one more time than I would like her to know about.

 

2 x Durex lubricant sachets which came with Cosmo/Marie Claire or some other chick mag

 

1 x sex dice, purchased at one of those lingerie/sex toy parties for girls, basically one dice has actions on it – eg. lick, massage etc and the other has body parts on it.

 

I have so many drawers in my apartment that she could have chosen instead – probably at least about 20 she could have chosen from, rather than the one she decided to go for.

 

The cringe factor is so high – it ranks right up there with another scenario that played out between my mother and myself earlier in the year…

 

My parents recently moved so there’s been an assortment of my stuff that ended up with them. Casually over lunch, a few months ago, and in front of my father, I might add, my mom chirps up with – “So who’s Mike?”

 

I carry on tucking into my meal and casually shrug – “I have no idea”

 

“Well he certainly seemed very happy with you!”

 

I look up – “What are you talking about??”

 

“Well I found a card from him that must have been attached to some flowers, saying – Dear MsMozi, thank you so much for an incredible night last night, Love Mike”.

 

At this point my father and I both nearly start choking.

 

By now, of course, I remember exactly who Mike is, and although the action between us was probably only worthy of a PG13 rating, he did sleep over for the night, and another night after that – but there is no way of explaining this to my parents.

 

I decided to stick to my guns…. “Hmmm…. Doesn’t ring a bell”.

 

Cringe!