On One Hand

December 27, 2004

Mom, Dad, I Want You to Know Something: I Have a Penis.

Filed under: Uncategorized — ononehand @ 6:58 pm

“Hey Dad,” I caught him on his way out, “one thing before you go – do you know where the digital camera is?”

“It’s on the kitchen table,” he answered. “But before you use it, upload all the pictures onto the computer, because the memory chip is full from Christmas.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “Do you know where the cord to upload the pictures is? Wait- here it is, never mind.”

“I think it’s in the desk drawer,” he went on, “in the family room-”

“Yeah I already found it,” I interuppted. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and one thing,” Dad paused before going out the door. “No more nudie pictures.”

“What?” I looked up.

“I found your pictures on the computer. Don’t take any more. And never post them online.” Then he left.

Each time I use the family camera, I double check to be sure I deleted the pictures off of the memory chip, avoiding the potential disaster of leaving one on there for my sister or some little kid to come across. But in worrying so much about the chip I slacked off the way I hide them on the computer. I forgot to bury the graphic ones deep in folders within folders on the hard drive so that no one would aciddentaly find them. A few weeks ago Dad was looking for photos of me for Christmas cards, and probably stumbled onto the “My Pictures” folder then.

And now, my dad officially knows what my dick looks like.

Things my parents have caught me doing as of December 27, 2004:

Looking at gay porn – Dad found it when he searched “AOL History,” when I was 13. I blamed it on my little sister, who was 11.

Masturbating – Mom caught me (get this – she actually peeked through a crack in the bathroom door), asked “why are you sitting on the floor?” age 14.

Looking at gay porn, saving the really good pictures on the computer – Dad caught me again, when he found pictures in my personal folder, age 15.

Writing love letters to boys online – Dad caught me, age 15 (still before I came out), didn’t tell me about what he found until years later.

Trimming my pubic hair – Dad says he found “curly hairs” in the shower drain that are “Matthew’s color,” age 16.

Talking to a girl friend about fooling around with a guy – Mom listened in on a phone conversation, age 17. I made up an elaborate story to convince her we had actually been talking about coffee.

Trimming pubic hair with Mom’s “good scissors” – she found a hair stuck in the hinge (I had actually been trimming my sideburns), age 17.

Keeping a bottle of lube in my drawer – Mom got upset, moaned to Dad “what are we going to do about what I found in Matthew’s drawer!?” (Dad said, “nothing.”), age 17.

Keeping condoms in a box on my nightstand – Mom found them, got pretty upset, but they were actually just souveneirs from a school conference, age 17.

Having phone sex – Mom claims to have heard it through the wall, age 17.

Having more phone sex – Mom claims to have heard it through the wall, yet again, age 18.

Saving naked pictures of myself on the family computer – I should have learned my lesson from all the other things they found and kept them solely on my laptop. Age 19.



  1. Aww, that sounds really really awkward. I hope the streak is over, at least for awhile.

    Comment by punkstress — December 28, 2004 @ 2:33 am | Reply

    • Well the “streak” has lasted at least six years so far, so I dunno.

      Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 2:35 am | Reply

  2. OMG

    Ur so adorable, and ur story was so funny. lol. I could never live through those episodes. hope u dont mind if I add u to my list.

    Comment by firebird_21 — December 28, 2004 @ 2:35 am | Reply

  3. Post nudes pls.

    Comment by sahara_dreams — December 28, 2004 @ 2:44 am | Reply

  4. I have had countless moments like those. I found the scissor vignettes particularly funny because I can relate… the good pair… *ah the good times…*, I have to wonder how embarrassing it was to the both of us and why it was necessary to bring up.

    Comment by zendocrescendo — December 28, 2004 @ 2:51 am | Reply

  5. Oh wow… My bro once stumbled upon my porn collection looking for stuff my computer but I can proudly say I haven’t had to deal with anything close to that list. I doubt I need to tell you this but, trust me, you’ll be laughing about this eventually.

    Comment by not_a_freak — December 28, 2004 @ 3:14 am | Reply

    • I’m laughing about it now.

      Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 3:15 am | Reply

      • Good to hear. I’ve never been good at reading emotions through plain text and wasn’t sure if there was still some embarassment to it.

        Comment by not_a_freak — December 28, 2004 @ 3:19 am

      • And, oh yeah… I say go quickly find a better hiding spot for the photos. The world needs more naked Matt.

        Comment by not_a_freak — December 28, 2004 @ 3:21 am

      • Thank you, I’m glad you feel that way. I’ll do my best. And on a more personal note, Matthew (ch. VII, v. 7-8), starting with “ask.”

        Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 3:28 am

  6. That is one of the funniest posts I have ever read. What a life you’ve had!

    Comment by spacemanspiff04 — December 28, 2004 @ 3:35 am | Reply

  7. The first time I looked at internet porn, I didn’t think to clean out the history and the cache, so my parents caught me. Or at least they think they did. I denied it, but it was true. After that, I took it upon myself to learn how to cover my tracks better than my parents knew how to uncover them. As soon as I got my own computer they had lost all control, except for blocking internet addresses through our router (the router automatically blocked certain addresses). Then I found ways for the router to conveniently lose power and hence its memory of blocked addresses.

    I am unable to understand why parents in the 21st century do not expect, if they have a son, for him to masturbate. Quite frankly, if I ever have the opportunity to have a son, I’ll give that kid plenty of space to do whatever he wants to do in private.

    Alas, I am the frequent victim of the insincere knock. Often somebody will knock on my door and then just burst in without waiting for a response. Instead of a response, they get an eye-full of something I’m sure they didn’t intend to see. I can’t even count the number of times I leaned against my door naked, trying to keep someone out.

    Comment by jk2703 — December 28, 2004 @ 5:24 am | Reply

    • My parents expect me to masturbate. They just don’t always think things through. When I was thirteen, my mom very calmly and seriously asked me, “Matthew, are you getting to the age where I need to start knocking first, because you might be doing something?”

      “You should ALWAYS knock!” I stammered. Sometimes I propped a chair up against the door when I was jerking off, and Mom would yell “why do you have the chair here? Why can’t I get in!” as she banged on it. Or someone would knock and I would say “DON’T COME IN! I’M… Uh… I’m getting dressed!” and I’m sure the pause gave me away.

      Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 7:36 am | Reply

      • When I rearranged my room a few times ago, I kept my desk near the door. Later, in the brilliant stupor I like to call arousal, I got the idea to shove the desk in front of the door. Unless they found a battering ram, they were not going to see me.

        I love “don’tcomeini’mgettingdressed!”, it’s my favorite response for that situation.

        Comment by jk2703 — December 28, 2004 @ 4:30 pm

  8. Wow… that was really painful to read. I just got a digital camera for Christmas… and wow, but my parents seeing naked pictures I’ve taken of myself is a really… disturbing prospect. My favourite story is where you blamed the gay porn on your 11 year old sister… whew, quick thinking!

    Comment by radical_will — December 28, 2004 @ 6:26 am | Reply

  9. My mom is notorious for leaving doors open. Once when I was eleven or twelve, I walked by her room, glanced over, and saw her doing situps, naked. I used to catch her in the bathroom all the time, not knowing she was in there because the door wasn’t closed. When I was in grade school, my dad and I went on a backpacking trip in a completely uninhabited area, and I grabbed the camera and took a photo of my dad squatting against a big rock. That’s about it.

    Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 7:30 am | Reply

  10. That was really funny. I loved the “Talking to a girl friend about fooling around with a guy … I made up an elaborate story to convince her we had actually been talking about coffee.”

    Comment by awk_sil — December 28, 2004 @ 7:41 am | Reply

  11. If it’s all right I’d like to add you as a friend. I found you by searching “Boulder”…I live in Louisville and go to school at MSCD. Your entry cracked me up-I only had one experience where my father walked into my room while I was jerking off. That was lovely. I read further back a few entries-you write about great shit. 🙂

    Comment by ezstrider — December 28, 2004 @ 8:51 am | Reply

    • Of course I don’t mind! And thank you, my journal is rarely regarded so highly as “great shit.”

      Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 8:54 am | Reply

      • I have a way with words. as you know by now.

        Comment by ezstrider — December 28, 2004 @ 9:51 am

  12. wtf, I just wana hug you.

    Comment by afstyles — December 28, 2004 @ 4:11 pm | Reply

  13. You gave me something to smile about!!!

    Glad you came trough smiling on the other side, I would have been traumatized!!!!

    Comment by mismatchedmind — December 28, 2004 @ 5:13 pm | Reply

  14. My mom once *ahem* walked in on me and my boyfriend and I successfully convinced her that we were “hugging” because he was upset over a fight he and a friend had earlier.

    It’s funny what parents choose to believe.

    Comment by non_se_quitur — December 28, 2004 @ 5:23 pm | Reply

    • I’ve had friends who have done that. “Oh, we’re just cuddlin’ Mom!” she said. And her mom either bought it or played dumb.

      Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 9:45 pm | Reply

  15. When I was a kid we weren’t allowed to put locks on the doors. My parents “didn’t believe in it,” but you can bet they had one on THEIR door. I don’t live there anymore (I have my own apartment in the town where I go to school) and am just home for the holidays, so it doesn’t really matter now.

    Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 9:58 pm | Reply

  16. Well now I have a roommate and I sleep on the futon in the living room, where she (yes it’s a SHE, and she’s gay too) can come out at any time and see me. It’s pretty much WAY worse now.

    Comment by ononehand — December 28, 2004 @ 10:08 pm | Reply

  17. Wow – bring up sex and comments galore. 🙂

    Comment by jdhenchman — December 29, 2004 @ 3:50 pm | Reply

  18. well my rents found my lube and then i re-found it on my dad’s nightstand…talk about awkward!!!

    Comment by hurley_chik — August 2, 2005 @ 7:57 am | Reply

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