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I was replaying the reel in my head a few days later, my eyes starting to glaze over, when the sound of Elin shouting, “Mom!” brought me out of my dirty musings. By the look on his and Elena’s faces, he must have been trying to get my attention for a while.
I picked up my neglected taco and asked, “What’s up, bud?” before taking a bite.
“Look, I can do the shocker!” he replied, holding up his hand to show me that his thumb was holding on to his ring finger.
I sucked in a breath, stunned, causing a piece of taco shell to lodge in my throat.
Choking, I reached for my water and sucked it back in between deep breaths, my eyes watering as I looked at my son in horror.
“Don’t do that,” I screeched when I had the ability to speak again.
Elin’s face dropped and he put his hand in his lap.
“Why, does it mean something bad?”
Not willing to explain the shocker to my ten-year-old son, I replied vaguely, “All you need to know is that it means something bad, and I don’t ever want you to do it again, okay?”
Elin exchanged a confused look with his sister, who simply shrugged and kept right on eating as if I hadn’t just almost died at the dinner table.
“Promise?” I urged when he didn’t say anything.
“Okay, Mom, I promise,” he said, eyes on his plate, and I knew I’d hurt his feelings when he left his favorite meal untouched and asked softly, “May I be excused?”
“Sure,” I replied, and watched with worried eyes as he cleared his plate and went to his room.
I sighed and looked at my daughter, unsure of whether or not she’d have questions about what just happened, but she just picked up a fallen black olive, popped it in her mouth, and asked, “Can Candace come over this weekend?”
The Douche and Mary were going out of town, so the kids were with me this weekend.
“Sure, honey,” I replied.
“Yay! Thanks.”
Once the table was cleared, the dishes were done, and I figured Elin had enough time by himself, I headed toward his room, trying to figure out what I could say to ease the hurt I’d caused earlier.
My mind was preoccupied; that’s why it took a moment for the scene before me to register when I opened his door.
Elin was sitting at his desk, the computer his dad had gotten him for Christmas powered up, and on the screen was a naked woman. She was spread eagle and moaning, as the man laying next to her gave her the shocker.
I looked from the screen to my son, my horror quickening when I saw his face was rapt on the couple and his hand was wrapped around his penis.
One second, all I could hear was the low moans of the woman on the screen, the next, the room was filled with the screams of my son and me.
“Oh. My. God!”
“Mom! Get out!”
It took a minute to shake myself out of my frozen state, then I whirled and ran out of the room, shutting the door behind me as I fled.
“Oh my god…” I kept muttering it over and over, until I was safely in my room.
For some reason, my room didn’t seem far enough removed from the mind-blowing situation. I passed through my bathroom, into my walk-in closet, shutting the door behind me as I dropped to the floor and crawled behind my hanging clothes. I let my back hit the wall, drew my knees to my chest, and held them tightly with my arms.
Then I cried my eyes out.
When had this happened? When had my sweet little boy started talking about sex and touching himself? When had he started watching porn?
“Ahhhh,” I moaned as I mourned the loss.
