Butts for the Whole Family

My folks are in town this week for an interview. I just found this out, so I spent a good 5 hours today frantically cleaning my apartment. If you don’t read this blog regularly, you’re probably wondering what the hell this has to do with sexuality. If you do read this blog regularly, I can practically hear your thoughts:

“Oh my GOD, Barbara’s about to wax philosophical over something completely asinine again.”

Ding ding ding!

I have this poster, see, for a long past Vancouver photography exhibition. It’s a huge, black and white photo of a butt. It’s an excellent butt. The person to whom this excellent butt belongs is lifting it slightly so you can make out the silhouette of a vulva. It’s in my living room.

I was staring at it today, trying to decide whether to take it down or not. When I was 18 and still living with my folks, I had a poster of Queen Elizabeth on which I had written “Queeny is watching you masturbate” hanging on my ceiling. Although they respected my decision to keep it up, it caused a bit of a stink with my more-conservative-than-they-think they-are parents.

I almost took it down. 22 years old and I’m afraid of being grounded for an excellent butt. Until I remembered the poster my brother had when we were in high school of two naked women fondling each other’s breasts (and another of a naked woman with an enormous blunt) and I decided it’s staying. No, not to berate them for the sexist double standard.

It’s staying because even as kids, they let us control the energy of our space. Since I started working at The Art of Loving, they’ve become more accepting of my enthusiasm around sexuality (my mother has even become a bit more open with her own!) and my space is, among other things, a sexual one.

Plus, it really is a great butt.