Shock Value

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a great affection for shock value. There’s nothing like watching people’s jaws drop at the mere mention of a joke or something you did (that you shouldn’t have done, of course). One of the easiest targets for my gasp-inducing antics is, and always has been, my mother.

The best part about getting her goat, however, is that she doesn’t usually react with a wide-eyed stare or the old hand-covering-mouth-in-horror schtick. She says things like, “You’re making the sperm in my neck hurt!” Which translates to: “You’re making me tense and it’s hurting the bone spur in my neck.” But her mouth works faster than her brain and you never know what’s going to come out of it.

When my brother was a senior in high school, he decided to take an older girl to his prom. My mom did not approve. I was about 10 at the time, and of course, planted myself outside of the kitchen to eavesdrop on the “discussion” that ensued. I don’t remember what my mom said, but I do remember her stumbling on her words when my brother finally shouted, “Mom, if I had a Velcro dick, I’d leave it at home with you!” Stealthy brother knew if he could stun Mom enough, she would most likely stop arguing.

My sister is a huge fan of using me as her shock-inducing device. Like in college when she brought up something at a family dinner about me writing “I love you” across myself in Hershey’s syrup for my boyfriend. Again, Mom got that look and yelled out the cats’ and my siblings’ names before getting it right and yelling at me.

Anyway, given the joy that her reactions bring, it was no surprise that I decided to share with her the story of how Mr. Wonderful told me he loved me.

He and I went to Katsuya for dinner Saturday night (DELICIOUS, btw! I highly recommend—and be sure to get the warm crab roll in rice paper.). After dinner, he asked me what I would like to do and I told him I thought it would be fun to play pool. So off to the Jerry’s Deli bowling alley we went.

We were about midway through our second game and well into our round of beers when he sunk one of my balls. (I was solids, he was stripes, just in case you want to better visualize the story.) I thanked him for giving me a freebee, squeezing him around the waist and he said, “You have to put one of my balls in now.”

Enter: Shock value.

“The only place I’m putting one of your balls is in my mouth,” I said.

“And that’s why I love you,” he laughed. Ah, those three little words...

We were crossing a street when I recounted the story to my mom and sister. My mom tripped not only on her words, choking, “What?! What did you just say?!”, she nearly took a digger on the pavement as well.

Teabagging, Mom. Balls. Oh come on! I was TOTALLY kidding! And I told her as much and reassured her that I am saving myself for marriage. I don’t even know what a ball looks like. Warm or cold.

As far as Mr. Wonderful goes, as soon as he said the words, I slipped into a semi-conscious state and had a series of hot flashes. But later, as we finished off round two of Coronas, I couldn’t help but say, “I can’t believe the first time you told me you loved me out loud was because I said I’d put your ball in my mouth…”