Shit My Dad Says... The One Where I Wish He Was Somehow MORE Catholic

When I was in my early 20s, I had a Catholic friend of mine tell me why she had only very recently decided that she didn't need to wait until marriage to have sex. "In Catholic school, they tell you that premarital sex makes your soul die", she explained.

She realized at a relatively young age that her soul wasn't going to die because of sex, but yesterday I discovered that there is a situation where sex is evil and ruins your soul. Specifically, my soul died a little when my dad decided to tell me about his sex life.

First, I want to apologize for even telling this story. It's kinda like The Ring. I can't unhear it or unknow it and the only way to mitigate the evil in my heart and shoulder the burden I now carry is to spread it to others. The people I've already told responded with sorrowful whimpers and guttural animal noises as I tortured their souls with this tale. I also feel that it's important to get this out on paper so that when I inevitably end up catatonic from the trauma, my family will have something to show the doctors to explain my condition.

Second, I'm going to recommend you gather a few things before you read the remainder of this post: First, Holy Water-for obvious reasons-, and then you'll need a few items for the lobotomy you're going to want to give yourself when you can't help but cringe as you imagine your own dad telling you about his sex life- I'd recommend a gallon of bleach, a melon baller, and a scalpel.

Here we go.

It's been common knowledge, and the source of so much comedy, that the last time my dad got laid was the night my 26 year old baby sister was conceived. In fact, my mom will swear to the fact that her 4 children represent the only 4 times she ever let him touch her. After they divorced, my dad was pretty convinced that Jesus was super mad at him because you know, Catholic. He was also always adamant that he did not believe in premarital sex and that my mother (ick ick ick ick ick) took his virginity and that he had not been with anyone else. I guess that sounds pretty fucking ridiculous in the year 2015, but my dad is just so fucking weird and gross that I've always believed him, because even if he wasn't the BEST Catholic, who wants to fuck a homeless guy anyway?

Anyway. A couple of months ago, my father informed me that he had started dating a woman that he met on the bus he drives. As you can imagine, I did not have high hopes for this relationship, because she has to be either the most fucked up person alive OR the most insecure. I met her a few weeks back, and it turns out she is the latter. That said, she's actually a really nice person, (which means my dad is going to ruin her life, but that's another conversation for another time) and he's brought her along the last couple of times he came to visit. . My point is that they are still together, and they recently moved in together.

My first reaction when my dad told me that he had a girlfriend was to jokingly ask if he was getting laid yet. He actually answered that question for some fucking reason and explained that, since they were both living with roommates, they did not have the privacy required to violate Jesus's code of conduct. After that, I realized that eww, my dad thinks this is information I really wanted to hear, and I vowed to NEVER EVER EVER ask ever again, Amen.

Yesterday afternoon my dad came to visit. I was surprised when he did not have his ladyfriend with him, and we had the following conversation (seriously you guys, last chance to close your browser):

Me:  Hey Dad. I'm surprised you didn't bring Susan along. You've had her with you every time you visit lately.

Dad: Well she had to work today.

Me: Oh, I gotch....

Dad: AND she's really mad at me.

Me: Oh god. What did you do?

Dad: Nothing, forget it.

Me: Well now you have to tell me, obviously.

Dad: She asked me not to say anything.

Me: Is it about money? It HAS to be about money.

Dad: No.

Me: REALLY? What else could you possibly have done to piss her off?

Dad: It's involves someone you know.

Me: Oh, what did you take her to Uncle Bobby's house and he made a rude comment or something?

Dad: No.

Me: WTF Dad.

Dad: Well...::leans in to whisper:: we were having an... intimate moment...

Me: OH GOD NO. NO NO NO NO NO.

Dad: And I accidentally...

Me: STOP STOP STOP. FORGET I EVER ASKED.

Dad: Well, it's about your mom.

Me: TAKE ME JESUS. I'M READY TO REPENT.

Dad: I accidentally said your mom's name during our intimate moment. She's really mad at me.

Me: IT'S BEEN 25 YEARS- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?????

Dad: And then I made it worse because I was telling her how she reminds me of your mother.

Me: ::dies of self-inflicted wounds::


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You guys? Are you still there? Do you need an extra minute to get the vomit out of your hair and your souls back into your bodies?

I don't think I need to go into too much detail about why every single word he uttered was horrifying and traumatic for me, but let's do that anyway. First- "intimate moment". I'm pretty sure I literally choked back vomit when the words came out of his mouth. Who says that? It's not as though I was raised by him and delicate phrasing is something I'm used to. I just think it would have been exponentially less creepy if he had just said "sex". And then I go into the death spiral of thought where I start to wonder exactly what "intimate moment" means. Does that mean actual P in V sex? Was... was my dad... getting a beej? OH GOD BRAIN PLEASE STOP THINKING THESE THOUGHTS. And that inevitably bleeds into the train of thought that OH MY DEAR SWEET BABY JESUS- I NEVER WANTED TO KNOW THAT MY DAD IS A NAME SAYER (shouter? moaner? GOD MAKE IT STOP PLEASE) during his... ick... intimate moments. And then I find myself wondering, should I give him advice? What would that advice consist of? "Hey dad, maybe next time just tell her it feels good or just make noises that indicate you are enjoying yourself"? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? WHY IS THIS MY LIFE NOW? WHY HAS EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THOSE THOUGHTS CROSSED MY MIND IN THE LAST 24 HOURS?

I'm pretty sure this is my punishment from God for all the premarital sex I had.