The weather on the Saturday before Memorial Day was cold and wet; it rained virtually all day, and the high for the day was only 47F (8C). It was just as well that we (mostly my father-in-law, wife and daughter) were painting the living room. I was primarily moving furniture, and taking things out of the cabinets, etc.
Sunday was a bit better, in terms of the weather, but there was church and more painting to do.
So Monday, Memorial Day was a nice respite from the storm. The Daughter was out front playing around 10:30 a.m. when she came inside, quite concerned. She was afraid that someone had gotten hurt. She’s a very caring person.
I went outside with her, and we could hear the distinct sound of moaning emanating from an open window next door. But these were, I quickly discerned, the sounds of pleasure, not pain.
I explained that sometimes people moan when they are experiencing pleasure, such as a back massage. She accepted that, because she’d seen my pained laugh when something unfunny took place.
This, of course, leaves me with two related issues. One involves talking about the birds and the bees. The other is trying to discern which of the neighbors – it’s a three-story building – were celebrating the holiday, then finding a way to suggest that anyone walking by was aware of their activities. I have a pretty good idea, but don’t want to discuss this with the wrong party. Or maybe I won’t mention it at all, unless it comes up again.