1. I know that people older than myself have sex. In fact, I know a heap of details about the sex lives of people older than myself and have even gleaned some wisdom on that score, and I thank them for their experience and willingness to share it. Go you, with your lube recommendations and sex toy reviews and links to purchase same.

2. I know my parents have had sex. I joke around about storks and cabbage leaves and things of that sort, but you're reading a woman who figured out at age eight or nine that hey, it takes nine months to make a baby, and I have a July birthday, so of course Mom and Dad's January anniversary meant I...was...premature? Mommy? How does that...oh. (In fact, my grandfather still has somewhere a copy of the Mother's Day poem I wrote when I was seven, which started: I was born in the summer of '72/that was the year she got married, too. Heh.)

3. I have young parents for someone my age. Not that I am the Ancient Mariner or anything, but I am 33 years old and my dad turned 52 this year, as will my mother in a couple of months. They were kinda precocious that way. So, you know, if I was all LA LA LA LA LA OLD PEOPLE DO NOT HAVE SEX LA LA LA LA, I would be cutting off my nose to spite my face, because that doesn't give me a lot of room to work with on the experience front. (On the other hand, I think that's part of the reason I never dated people too much older than I am; my stepmother is not too much younger than my dad, but you know what? Comparatively, I'm not much younger than my dad. He remarried when he was the age I am now and I was in high school, dude. He married a a woman who helped foster my love of Led Zeppelin. This narrows the dating pool considerably for me. It's far too Oedipal. Electra. Whoever.)

4. NONE OF THIS MEANS I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY PARENTS HAVING SEX. It does not mean I think older people need to refrain from discussing it. I am not grossed out by crow's feet and grey pubic hair and whatever all else is going on. If you post to sex forums online and I am reading, you git on with your bad self and you tell me about your new boyfriend and your wild weekend. I will cheer you on, I will ask for salacious details, I will take notes if you offering advice...but if I find out you are my mother I will run screaming into the hills from whence cometh my help.

I have grit my teeth and joked with them about it, as far as her boyfriend and my stepmom go, but with each other? Sacred cow, man. Sacred cow. Easy enough to stay away from, mind you, what with the divorce and all, but still. I know more about my brother's conception than I really need to. (Apparently getting royally drunk and consequently knocked up is something of a family tradition.) It's just too close to home.

And frankly, I hope the tradition continues. I plan to be open about the facts of life, and my kid(s) (hypothetical plural) can ask me anything they want to know, there comes a point where really, they'll probably end up pretending that their dad and I never did this stuff. And that's okay.

As long as they post to different message boards, it's all fine with me.