I am the kind of mom who places an importance on honesty of information. Meaning, my offspring know if they need an answer to a question – no matter how awkward the conversation may be – I am the “go-to” gal. I have answered questions from childbirth and masturbation to definitions of words with sexual content. Awkward for those listening in to our conversation but quite normal for me and my offspring.
A few years back, one of the offspring had inquired what a “ho” and what a “ho house” was. Being the awesome, hip and understanding mom I am I gave several definitions of Ho House:
|Noun||1.||whorehouse– a building where prostitutes are available
bagnio, bawdyhouse, bordello, brothel, cathouse, house of ill repute, house of prostitution, sporting house, Chicken Ranch
building, edifice – a structure that has a roof and walls and stands more or less permanently in one place; “there was a three-story building on the corner”; “it was an imposing edifice”
massage parlor – a place where illicit sex is available under the guise of therapeutic massage
After going into a long and informative explanation, I glaced up at the faces of my children and had to laugh. Theirs eyes were enormous with a slight look of disgust on their face. Genetic Offspirng spoke up and said,
Santa uses a Ho House?
Ummm….NO! Lesson learned, always start the Q&A session with:
Tell me what you think it is.
That way I know what train of thought they are on. Apparently the Offspring had read a sign on a house that read HO HO HO and knew there was something bawdy associated with that term. Yet they also knew that was what Santa always said. Now that they are teenagers, the term House of Ho is a hilarious use of double entendre.
Saturday night, the family piled into a sleigh for a trip down Candy Cane Lane in Edmonton’s west end. My family – extended included, filled the 25 passenger wagon. My dad’s sister organized the entire evening. Her kids were in town and it was great seeing faces that I have only seen on facebook for the past while. I met her grandkids and fell in love with the youngest. We sang every Christmas Carole we knew and sang blablabla for those we didn’t. We were treated to some Queen – brought to us by the Offspring as well as Carole of the bells blablablaed in several parts. It was fantastic!
Then we saw it, half way down the street – there is was. The House of Ho. Across the front of the home was HOHOHO to the left of the door and HOHOHO to the right of the door. My offspring started cracking jokes and laughing – much to the dismay of my Aunt whose grandbabies were sitting behind us. As funny as it was, I had to put a stop to the hilarity and we snickered to ourselves.