My dad asks my sister on a regular basis if I am "dating or anything." He desperately wants to ask me, but just can't bring himself to get farther than "So...how are you doing?"
When I told him about First Wives World, the conversation went like this:
Me: Dad — I've got sort of a writing job. I'm going to be posting on a website.
Dad: That's great! Hold on, let me get Jean on the phone — she's watching Doppler. Jean!
Dad: She's going to be writing for...what's it for?
Me: A website. It's a site for divorced women.
Stepmom: Really? So what are you going to write about?
Me: Well, you know — getting divorced. Trying to date after getting divorced.
Dad: [throat clearing] So ... if you're writing about dating, that means, er — that means there is dating?
Stepmom: What's the site?
Me: Oh, no. You can't read it.
Dad: But we want to!
Me: No. I'm totally not comfortable with that.
Stepmom: C'mom! We can handle it! We're not old fuddy-duddies!
Me: The fact that you just said that...no way.
Dad: But we want to read your work!
Me in my head: Dad. Jean. I'm going to write about dating. And sex. That means you will be reading about my one-night-stand and how I'm trying to figure out pubic hair grooming expectations. Do you really want to know about that?
Me on the phone: I don't think I'd be able to...speak freely about — certain things — if I knew you were reading.
Stepmom: ...maybe it's for the best that we don't.
Dad: We're proud of you anyway, honey.