Thanks again, to all of you who responded to my call. Here’s the dish:
She and I went shopping yesterday and so, while driving, I brought it up since she had not. “Remember how you asked me…” She blushed (good sign) and dipped her head a bit, “yeah.”
I told her I’d been wondering why she would want to know that, told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t going to answer that question until we are both “grown-up women” if then, even. I told her I want her to ask me what she wants to know and I would try my best to answer, but that she had to let me have an “out of bounds” flag I could throw whenever she asked something that was more personal than I wanted to share. I told her this wasn’t a story I shared with many people, and that there are others I may not share with her. I even went straight for the “eewww factor” by saying something like “you wouldn’t want to know about what your dad and I do, so why would you want to ask this?”
“Oh. Mom. That’s just gross,” she said.
Communication open; boundaries set. All is right with the world.
(Even right-er— she finally realized that all those teen romance books she’s been devouring like M&Ms have the same tired plot. Could this be where such questions come from?)