“Remember the night we went to see the male strippers?” That’s the horrifying question that my aunt decided to ask my mother last week at my mother’s birthday dinner. There are only two questions that are worse than that one…

1 Remember the night we killed that kid?
2 Remember the night we killed that kid and then went to see the male strippers?

I guess this is the part where I have to explain why aunt was talking about male strippers on my mother’s 55th birthday. We were all enjoying the nice dinner, when my mom started to tell my wife about the time I decided to move out….WHEN I WAS FIVE YEARS OLD.

Yes, that really happened. When I was five, I thought that my mom was cramping my style and I packed my bags and told her that I was moving out. My mom saw that I had a need for my own bachelor pad and I spent the next two months living with my grandparents. As you can see, I was awesome at a very early stage in my life.

As my mom is telling this story, I can see that my wife is having trouble believing it…

Dave: “Of course I moved out when I was five. I was a man on my own. I needed no one!”
Dave’s aunt: “Well, except that night when your mom and me went to the strip show.
Dave: “What are you talking about?”

* tries to block images of mother at male strip show *
* chews on nails *

Dave’s aunt: Yes. Remember the night we went to see the male strippers? And remember how Dave cried all night and almost ruined our trip?”
Dave’s mother: * looks at me with a lot of disgust *

Apparently, my mom and my aunt – two young, single females at the time – had tickets to a male strip show that was being held at a fancy hotel here on Curacao. I was staying at my grandparents’ house and they just needed me to be quiet, watch television and not ruin their night. They didn’t want my grandfather knowing where they were going, so the plan hinged on me shutting up and not calling too much attention to the situation. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but I can understand that you don’t want your parents knowing that you went to a nudie show, how “classy” it may be.

Sadly, I decided to cry like a girl and “ask for my mommy” all night long. This pissed my grandfather off and made him start to wonder where my mom was. He started asking questions and he was doing his best to locate my mother to tell her that I was crying like a loser and that she needed to come pick me up.

Luckily for my mom and aunt, cell phones did not exist back then, which meant that my grandpa could not get a hold of them. They watched their strip show, came back home and gramps never knew where they went.

My childish behavior (remember, I was five) almost messed things up and my mom and aunt still talk about it. It’s like they still don’t forgive me…which is actually unfair because you know, THEY SAW A GRATOUITOUS AMOUNT OF NAKED MEN. Mission accomplished. Let it go. Get over it.

Either way, my mom and aunt continued to reminisce about that night and I felt as uncomfortable as I have ever felt in my entire life. The wife had a very good laugh at my expense and that brings me back to my initial point. When your aunt turns to your mom and asks her about the time they went to the strip show, you better hold on tight because it’s going to be very awkward and painful.

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