Joey Lomax AP-S 4/24/2012 A Shining Light of Disgust One bright morning, I was preparing for prom and

speaking with my mother. Im just about ready, mother, I said. Do you need a prom condom? She asked. What?! A prom condom, I could draw a tux on it! She said Happily. This was quite possibly the most awkward exchange of my entire life. My mother, fifty-four years young, should not know what a condom is; and she definitely should not suggest putting one in fancy attire. No! I cried, running outside to escape the situation for a moment and compose myself. What is wrong with you?! I cried as I stepped back in. Oh, Joey, it was a joke! She said, laughing. But still I mumbled, Ew This raised a startling question: Did my mother know what sex was? Did she know where babies come from? Obviously, a mother of five attractive children would know the answer to such questions, but it was still shocking to hear her joking about contraceptives. Luckily, it was prom, so I had a distraction. This situation was undeniably awkward, but why? Because thinking of your mother and sex as non-separate concepts is universally off putting, even disgusting. This

fundamental concept of disgust unites us as a species, it makes us one. One gender. One nationality. One world, united in disgust. This moment has united me with the world. I was one more man on this Earth who has become a stranger to their mother, a stranger in their own home, a stranger in their village. To this day, I recall the feeling of strangeness it caused me when this startling new light shone upon my mothers saintly skin.