In life, there are some things which must go unsaid and undone with certain people. It is for the betterment of society and an individual’s own sanity. One thing that I personally refuse to do is watch a specific television show, for a particular reason, with Dave’s mother. I absolutely refuse to watch The Tudors with her.
Why? Why would any twenty-something woman want to willingly sit down to watch an hour of mostly royal sex with her boyfriend’s fifty-something mother? I already live in the same house with Dave’s parents, who probably assume I have a healthy relationship with their son, with whom I share a bed each night. I think that implication of the assumption alone is enough of a reason why I do not want to watch Jonathan Rhys Meyers poke Anne Boleyn each episode with Dave’s mom sitting in the chair next to me.
I think it is safe to say this is one situation I would much rather leave to the imagination than to reality. No one needs to experience the deafening silence that follows each one of those bedroom scenes. Been there. Done that. Perhaps the best course of action is to stick to The Office or House Hunters, two shows thankfully void of rampant sexual promiscuity.