Life is an Embarrassment of Riches

I was asked recently, "Is there anything that embarrasses you?"

After my Father died I was talking to my Mother about the last time she and he had sex and we nailed down the year to 1997. The same year that Titanic broke box office records and Batman & Robin put superhero films in a coma.

This conversation also confirmed something I had remembered since childhood: my father was very well endowed. When you're a kid most things look larger than life and being a close knit family there were times when the bathroom was occupied by multiple males. So what wins out when you're four years old and you need to piss? There isn't room for embarrassment when you and your Father are standing before a single toilet in the upstairs bathroom.

Alright, so Mom blew Dad in '97 while our hearts went on and I had enough face time with a hulking wiener to leave an impression. Not a literal impression but a figurative one. Like, there isn't any part of my body featuring an indent or "artists concept" of a penis and certainly not of my Father's massive member.

But does anything embarrass me?

I don't know anymore.

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