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A Mother’s Immodesty — and an Unforgettable Scene « The Thinking Housewife
The Thinking Housewife
 

A Mother’s Immodesty — and an Unforgettable Scene

October 3, 2014

 

BUCK writes:

I have an anecdote that I have never told. I don’t know if it damaged me, but it has always bothered me. My memory of it was prompted by a video of an attractive female reporter, wearing skin-tight black stretch pants, interviewing a male on the street in France on the ongoing immigrant rape culture.

I was thinking about it while driving from my home in Maryland to take care of my 92-year-old mother, who is in a rehab facility in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, since she fell and broke her hip. We were not close. I’ve talked to her more in the last two years than in the previous sixty.

At about age eleven, like any normal boy, I was not the least bit aware of my own mother’s sexuality. It didn’t exist.

My parents had recently begun to fight, and constantly. I was bewildered by it and I had no idea what was going on, why or what was going to happen. I still don’t know much for sure. Neither of them ever explained or have ever even mentioned it. I mean the divorce. Not sure that they could. I never talked about it with my older sister or my older brother, then or ever.

Anyway, I was sitting on the couch next to my dad watching TV, as usual, circa 1960. It was a week night. No one in our house ever went out on a week night. Never. It was TV, then lights out. it was probably around nine p.m. Like I said, my mother never went out, and she certainly had no reason to go out to a laundry mat, or out alone. She came down from upstairs carrying a laundry basket, dressed to go out. She was wearing the tightest pants that I had ever seen. I was completely blown away. I don’t know how to explain what I felt. I had never actually seen my mother’s “body,” as her body, never in a state of undress or ever inappropriately dressed.

Well, my dad was also blown away. He spoke. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but my mother dropped the laundry and went back upstairs and changed her clothes. She came back down in a hurry, and still went out. On the way out, (I will also never forget this) my mom was struggling to get out the door with what she was carrying. I was frozen. All that I could think of was why isn’t my dad helping her? He always helped her. I couldn’t move. My dad just sat there. He said “You going to see­­­­­­­­­­_____ ______? He said the name of my future stepfather. My mom looked stunned, then mad, but she made it out the door.

I’ll never forget that scene. I was sitting there alone with my dad. He said not one word after my mom left. I stared at the TV as mom drove off for her rendezvous in our first “family” car. She had just purchased it with money earned at her first job at a car dealership where my future step-father financed it for her.

I never saw her dressed that way again.

Am I emotionally scarred and conflicted about girls and women in tight pants? No. I don’t fight with myself about it. I don’t have a daughter or a wife. Several of my friends have several daughters in college. None of the daughters have a clue about modesty, what it is, what it means, what it does.

I can’t imagine what compels men to rape or otherwise sexually assault a woman. There is a serious denial of the natural order of men and women in our society, culture and civilization. Ruthless, bloodthirsty, evil rapists should be exterminated, and all sex offenders should be confined and prevented from gaining access to victims. But, to deny the substantive role of the comprehensive unconstrained display of female sexuality in almost every walk of life, is to deny and to foolishly attempt to defy the natural order of healthy men and women, and of healthy children and adults.

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