Brady's Couch

I was sick of having sex
On Brady's couch.

We'd never had sex in his bed
Because he was embarrassed
That he still sleeps in a twin-size
With Kids Incorporated sheets on them

I didn't even know they made Kids Incorporated sheets
Until I started dating Brady

He says he likes to do it on the couch
Because it's unusual

But really it's just because
He's afraid his mother will come home
And he likes to stare at the front door
The entire time we're going at it
Making sure the lock doesn't turn

One time, during a particularly bad storm
The wind blew so hard
It knocked out the rusty lock
And the door flew open

Within four seconds, Brady jumped up
Threw a blanket over me
And had his pants on and buttoned
Before he realized that it was just the bad weather

There I was laying underneath his grandmother's quilt
Thinking--I am wayyy past this

I had been having sex with Brady
On that couch
Since we were in high school
And we were far out of high school
And nowhere near getting married
And my youngest sister was on her second pregnancy
And I just wasn't having it anymore

I wanted to take a can full of kerosene
Pour it on the couch
And burn the whole thing up in the backyard
Like some kinda funeral pyre
Making Brady watch in horror
Imagining him rocking back and forth
Like an idiot

But being a reasonable woman
I decided not to make any rash decisions
Nor did I make any ultimatums

I simply said--

'Brady, I want to have sex in your bed'

He looked at me
Like I suggested
Screwing him on his childhood rocking horse

He said the bed was too small
I said 'Hmm, then I guess one of us will have to be ON TOP OF THE OTHER! HAVE YOU NEVER HAD SEX BEFORE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?'

I admit
The yelling was a little much

I asked what the real reason was
We couldn't have sex in his bed

He said it would feel wrong
He'd been in that bed
Since he was a kid

I said, 'Brady, that's the problem. You're a boy. I'm having sex with a little boy! I'm a kid-toucher. This is wrong! This is so wrong!'

You know, it's true what those creepy old men who marry teenagers say
Age really is just a number

You have sex with a guy since you're fourteen
And one day you realize you're twenty-three
And he's still fourteen

Time is a relative concept
When you're dealing with men

To solidify my argument, Brady started to cry

I had to go make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
To make him feel better

When I came back, I told him this wasn't working

I needed to move onto the next phase of my life
And that didn't include sex on couches
Or in treehouses
Or in the ball pit at Chuck 'E Cheese's

Yeah, so I didn't tell you about those times
There's shame involved, all right?
Let me keep some dignity here

I told Brady that I needed to be an adult
And I wasn't going to get there being with a kid

He kept crying
But he agreed

I'll say this for him

He's a good enough guy to know
When to let go

We even had a little break-up fling
And to show that there were no hard feelings
I offered to be the one
Keeping an eye on the door