(originally posted April, 2006)
Did you ever notice that a child is the center of his or her own universe? Everything that he or she can pick up is christened with a singular title: “MINE!!!!!”
...and thus we come to the subject of today’s musing... The question we’ve all asked or been asked at least once in our lives; a question that raises eyebrows (or, in the alternative, bile LOL) depending on the person who’s doing the asking:
(I’ll pause here to wait for the groaning, chuckling and eye-rolling to stop. Done yet? )
What is it about the act of sex that makes people take leave enough of their mental faculties to want to claim (or, in the alternative, confer) possession of someone else’s (or their own) genitalia?
I mean, maybe I’m taking too serious an approach to this whole thing. Then again, anything that could potentially screw up my downstroke is cause for consternation. Sex is (or at least should be) serious business, right??? These matters must be handled delicately, of course, but tact isn’t my strong suit. (Yeah, yeah, I know, tell the world something it doesn’t know.)
To me, this is the sort of thing that can turn sugar to shit in 2.2 seconds. Sure, in an ideal world, none of us would be having sex if we weren’t married; and it stands to reason if one is married, then there is at least what could be referred to as “leasehold interest” (that’s a right to which a person who receives mail in your home is entitled, and once they get it, it’s impossible to get rid of them without at least 30 days notice, but I’m digressing) in the goodies of the person that’s on the other side of your bed. BUT: What’s my credo? “If wishes were pigs, bacon would be free.”
Imagine, if you will, a HOT scenario. Two people with an insatiable hunger for each other, doing what they do best, with not a care in the world for anything other than devouring and completely satisfying themselves in each other. They have a natural rhythm to their stroke, and they’re clipping along like 95 going North… until he whispers in her ear the Dread Question. ****RECORD SCRATCH****
Everything came to a screeching halt when those words were uttered. Seriously. I had to struggle not to LAUGH right there on the spot. I mean, pillow talk is just that, but I hate to make anything more than it is. I don’t want him to lie to me and therefore I don’t lie to him, even when the truth is ugly and/or painful. I tried to ignore the question and keep on going and then came the insult added to the injury: He went so far as to claim it for his own whether I was going to confirm it or not. I guess thought he was doing me a favor as well by verbally deeding title of a certain piece of prime real estate to me. However, knowing him as I do, I’m thinking that the chain of title is not exactly as clear as he would have me believe, and there might be some difficulties should I attempt to take this one through settlement…but still I digress.
So what’s the point? Is the real issue here the actual concept of “ownership”? I ask this because I think a lot of the time the idea of having something is better than actually having it – evidenced PERFECTLY by some of the gadgets I’ve been pressed as hell to buy which are still sitting in their boxes untouched. (Get your heads out of the gutter. I’m talking specifically about a garment steamer I bought before Christmas. LOL) Let’s go back to my analogy about small children again – any object that’s in their hands at any given time is THEIRS. A lot of the time they’ll put an item down and move on to the next seemingly without a care but woe betide the fool that tries to play with the discarded item. There’s hell to pay, right? (I’m wondering if I’m the only one truly feeling the symbolism here… *sigh*)
So… when someone inquires of you, “whose is this?” … think about what you’re going to do if the response is, “It’s Yours!!!” – decide if you’re going to maintain it and respect it in the manner it’s being given. Conversely, if you’re more the type to just leave your toys in the middle of the floor and then throw a fit when one of your friends wants to play, even if you’ve got another toy in your clutches, you need to consider that as well. Better yet: Stop talking shit and don’t say in bed what you don’t mean OUT of bed!
In closing, when asked that SILLY question, I tell the truth: it’s mine. After all, what’s MINE is mine… but if you play nice, maybe I’ll let you borrow it… ;)
Did you ever notice that a child is the center of his or her own universe? Everything that he or she can pick up is christened with a singular title: “MINE!!!!!”
...and thus we come to the subject of today’s musing... The question we’ve all asked or been asked at least once in our lives; a question that raises eyebrows (or, in the alternative, bile LOL) depending on the person who’s doing the asking:
WHOSE IS IT????
(I’ll pause here to wait for the groaning, chuckling and eye-rolling to stop. Done yet? )
What is it about the act of sex that makes people take leave enough of their mental faculties to want to claim (or, in the alternative, confer) possession of someone else’s (or their own) genitalia?
I mean, maybe I’m taking too serious an approach to this whole thing. Then again, anything that could potentially screw up my downstroke is cause for consternation. Sex is (or at least should be) serious business, right??? These matters must be handled delicately, of course, but tact isn’t my strong suit. (Yeah, yeah, I know, tell the world something it doesn’t know.)
To me, this is the sort of thing that can turn sugar to shit in 2.2 seconds. Sure, in an ideal world, none of us would be having sex if we weren’t married; and it stands to reason if one is married, then there is at least what could be referred to as “leasehold interest” (that’s a right to which a person who receives mail in your home is entitled, and once they get it, it’s impossible to get rid of them without at least 30 days notice, but I’m digressing) in the goodies of the person that’s on the other side of your bed. BUT: What’s my credo? “If wishes were pigs, bacon would be free.”
Imagine, if you will, a HOT scenario. Two people with an insatiable hunger for each other, doing what they do best, with not a care in the world for anything other than devouring and completely satisfying themselves in each other. They have a natural rhythm to their stroke, and they’re clipping along like 95 going North… until he whispers in her ear the Dread Question. ****RECORD SCRATCH****
Everything came to a screeching halt when those words were uttered. Seriously. I had to struggle not to LAUGH right there on the spot. I mean, pillow talk is just that, but I hate to make anything more than it is. I don’t want him to lie to me and therefore I don’t lie to him, even when the truth is ugly and/or painful. I tried to ignore the question and keep on going and then came the insult added to the injury: He went so far as to claim it for his own whether I was going to confirm it or not. I guess thought he was doing me a favor as well by verbally deeding title of a certain piece of prime real estate to me. However, knowing him as I do, I’m thinking that the chain of title is not exactly as clear as he would have me believe, and there might be some difficulties should I attempt to take this one through settlement…but still I digress.
So what’s the point? Is the real issue here the actual concept of “ownership”? I ask this because I think a lot of the time the idea of having something is better than actually having it – evidenced PERFECTLY by some of the gadgets I’ve been pressed as hell to buy which are still sitting in their boxes untouched. (Get your heads out of the gutter. I’m talking specifically about a garment steamer I bought before Christmas. LOL) Let’s go back to my analogy about small children again – any object that’s in their hands at any given time is THEIRS. A lot of the time they’ll put an item down and move on to the next seemingly without a care but woe betide the fool that tries to play with the discarded item. There’s hell to pay, right? (I’m wondering if I’m the only one truly feeling the symbolism here… *sigh*)
So… when someone inquires of you, “whose is this?” … think about what you’re going to do if the response is, “It’s Yours!!!” – decide if you’re going to maintain it and respect it in the manner it’s being given. Conversely, if you’re more the type to just leave your toys in the middle of the floor and then throw a fit when one of your friends wants to play, even if you’ve got another toy in your clutches, you need to consider that as well. Better yet: Stop talking shit and don’t say in bed what you don’t mean OUT of bed!
In closing, when asked that SILLY question, I tell the truth: it’s mine. After all, what’s MINE is mine… but if you play nice, maybe I’ll let you borrow it… ;)
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