Friday, July 15, 2011
Damn You Rihanna
Oh Rihanna, you have a lot to answer for. You and your weird wigs, chains and whips and sex in the air. It's your fault I had to tell my daughter what 'S & M' stands for.
Now, my daughter is 16 and not a particular Rihanna fan, she's more of a Muse, Foo Fighters and Green Day kinda girl who even likes my Simple Minds, The Cure, Radiohead and Birds of Tokyo CDs (thank you baby cheesus for giving me a rock chick and not a dance diva), she is not innocent as pure snow (we don't get snow in Adelaide), she watches True Blood and has therefore seen simulated sex acts, fellatio and horny fangbangers (but as of last week is still a virgin which she announced in front of our friends *cringe*) so when the Rihanna video came on TV I was a little taken aback when she turned to me and said,
'What does S & M actually stand for anyway?'
I thought of lying. 'Sunshine and Moonbeams' came to mind.
'Smiles and Memories.'
'Sausages and Mash.'
I'm not sure how I would have connected sausages and mash with having sex in the air but it would explain Rihanna loving the smell of it.
Anyway, I didn't lie. Whenever she's asked me a straight-out question, I've never lied. Except that time she asked why the Tooth Fairy hadn't visited and I went into a detailed bullshit story about lots of kids losing their teeth on the same night and demand being high and the Fairy's schedule being backed up, when in fact the Fairy had a few wines and went to bed with no thought of tooth collecting.
So I told her.
And then a strange thing happened. I found I couldn't speak in complete sentences. I kind of spat the words at her, sort of like a really twisted word association game.
And so on.
It was weird, as my 18 year old son was also in the room, smirking in the corner, shooting aliens and pretending he wasn't interested but absorbing every stilted, staccato word I spat out.
And you know what was weirder?
I realised my daughter had said 'Ahh, okay, I get it...' and wandered off after the first five or so words, no longer wanting to listen to her mother speaking of such things.
But I kept talking.
And now I have part of the song stuck in my head.
"I like it, like it, come on, come on..."
Which is ridiculous, let's face it, we're lucky to find the energy for a quick bounce these days, let alone worrying about getting tied up, having hot wax dripped on each other and attaching pegs to nipples. Knowing my luck I'd set fire to the bedroom, and not in a good way, and have to confront firemen looking like I'd had the washing hung from me.
Damn you Rihanna.