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Sex With Mom and Dad Is Nearly As Gross As It Sounds

by Lauren Gitlin September 22, 2008 1:38 pm
Few things make me gag and cringe in horror like the thought of parents having sex. Not just my parents, mind you. All parents. I understand that it's silly of me to refuse to accept that people over the age of 50 have sex lives. And I also acknowledge that were it not for that one time my parents accidentally did it, I would not be here today to be grossed out about it in the first place. I get all that, people. But I think there must be an evolutionary basis for why "parents" and "sex" are two words I'd just as soon not have appear in the same sentence, let alone paragraph. And I don't think I'm alone in this.

The producers of MTV's new advice/chat show Sex With Mom and Dad may be trying to do a noble thing by getting the lines of communications about sex open between parents and kids. God knows with the rate of teen pregnancy and whatnot, there seems to be a disconnect going on somewhere along the line. But somehow I'm still feeling a little queasy about the whole shebang. Based on the show's description ("In each half-hour episode, Loveline's Sex and Relationship Expert Dr. Drew will help a teen and their parents work through their problems about sex, dating and relationships. Maybe a dad is worried that his daughter uses her sexuality to get attention; a son is concerned that ever since he came out of the closet, his parents haven't acted the same towards him; or a son's "ladies man" M.O. has mom worried that sex, and the girls he sleeps with, mean nothing to him..."), it seems the creators are trying to paint the show as a hipper, more relevant Talk Sex with Sue Johanson. To me it's more along the lines of Fear Factor. It's one thing to feel comfortable asking your mom to take you to get birth control pills and another to listen to your parents describe how an unusual sexual position caused your mom to fart at an inopportune time. That's not the kind of sharing and caring I'm interested in, and not even my TV boyfriend Dr. Drew can convince me that enduring anecdotes like these are worth the greater good. If I had to choose between hearing about my parents' sexual exploits and getting knocked up during my sophomore year of high school, I think it's pretty clear what I'd pick. Just call me Jamie Lynne.

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