Naming the Rooms

I started talking about this the other day. Remember the post about how one room at my parents’ house got named the Conception Bed Room? Apparently my siblings determined that the other bedrooms at my parents’ house needed better names too. The Queen Bed room and the guest room were too confusing, I guess.

The Queen Bed room shares a wall with my parents’ bathroom. It can be frustrating if you stay in that room on a day my parents have to go to work. You can hear every step of the getting-ready process, from the showers to my dad blowing his nose. It always wakes me up much too early in the morning, so I try to avoid the room whenever possible.

I didn’t think about the other problems with that set-up, though. If we can hear them through the wall, then doesn’t make sense that they could hear us through the wall? For that reason, my sister decided the room’s name is the Quiet Sex room. When she told all of us the room’s new name, we couldn’t help laughing while blushing to the color of a tomato. We all knew exactly what she meant. My mom did too, based on her equally embarrassed laugh. That was definitely an awkward moment.

On the same track, why is it ok for us to joke about my parents’ sex life by calling that room the Conception Bed room, but it’s so much more embarrassing for us to sort of hint at our own sex lives? I mean, we’re married too. Is it that bad for my mom to think about her kids having sex than it us for us to think about her having sex?

We also stumbled across a name for my parents’ bedroom. I don’t even remember how this came up (BAD pun!), but somehow it is now being referred to as the Cialis room. I prefer Cialis Suite, but either way you get the point. I think it was a reference to my dad needing “help,” which led to Cialis, etc. For the record, I don’t think he does need help. But I don’t want to know. The craziest part is that this name was loudly discussed over dinner out after church on Sunday. There was another family eating just feet away from us, perfectly capable of hearing every word that was said at our table, should they take an interest in the conversation. I have no problem with the embarrassing discussions in the privacy of our own dining room, but I’m not comfortable with those same discussions in public. My family is just too weird!

So now we’re left with just one room left to name. It is the guest room, the one with just a fold-out couch. M and I often end up in that room these days, and PJ stays there if the room isn’t needed otherwise. M and I suggested several names for it, but we haven’t hit on the right name yet. Rejected names include: Preggie Sex Room (since we often stayed there while I was pregnant), Floor Sex Room (hours after getting married…), and Chastity Room (since PJ stays there so often and the bed sucks). I think the only solid rule for the name is that is has to subtly reference sex and be something the family would understand. I’ll have to keep thinking, but I’m probably not creative enough (or crass enough) to find the name that sticks.

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