Yesterday was my Mr. Big's birthday. October 13. My mom is the one who labeled him my Big. She started watching Sex and the City last year and now there are lots of references to it. So when I was crying about him, she said, "He's your Big, isn't he?" Yes, I guess he's my Big. Except that Carrie ending up with him was bullshit, and not what happens in real life.
Betty's interest in Sex and the City is hilarious. My mom got married in the 50's, when she was 21 and a total virgin. Sex and the City surprises her, but doesn't seem to offend or really even shock her. I occasionally get calls that start with "I have a question..." She wonders things like, have I waxed off all my pubic hair? (no, but only because pain terrifies me) Do I know anyone who wants to be peed on? (not as far as I know) Do I think she knows anyone who does? (hmm, let's think about our family friends...) Sometimes, in her very sweet, sincere Betty way, she'll recount episodes. "Well, last night the main character - what's her name - she's just so cute. Anyway, that week she'd slept with a different man every night! And so..." There's no judgment. Just part of the facts.
She's started getting them from Netflix so there are always episodes to watch. I've watched a couple of them with her, but I've gotta say, even though we're very liberal, I just can't watch Samantha using a vibrator, or videotaping herself having sex, while sitting next to my mother. Betty and I both try to pretend we are not twitching, that we are cool. Neither of us are that cool.