So the other night, as I was getting out of the shower and reaching for the towel, I suddenly heard the sounds of someone moaning and groaning through the bathroom door.

Now, and I do believe this is a universal thing, when a person hears moaning and groaning, their first thought on the cause behind evoking such sounds generally leans towards one thing. This thought process is practically instinctive and immediate; ingrained within most of us from childhood - or at least adolescence (with much thanks to the damned media and their fantastic cinematography).

Ok - so moaning and groaning. So what?

There are only three people living under this roof: me, my mother and my father. Now, I know it wasn't me making those noises so that could only leave two other choices - either of which sent me down a very, very, so, so very disturbing chain of thought.

"Ok, Sherryl, just breathe. There is no way in heaven, hell or earth that your bible-pushing parents could be doing the dirty outside your bathroom. So just dry off, get changed, open the fucking door and get into the beautiful sanctuary of your room and then watch a movie or blast some music or kill yourself or something."

So I did that.

Turns out my dad was giving my mother a (very platonic looking) massage.

Still... eeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww...........