Come Dine With Me has a lot to answer for. The program doesn’t interest me, though I can quite happily sit and watch it if it’s on, or have it in the background.

As I sat down for dinner last night, I sat with mum in the living room and CDWM was on the tv, with one of the guests talking about his pierced nipple.

“I don’t get all of … that.” She said, gesticulating wildly with her cutlery-free right hand.

“Don’t get what?” I asked, hoping that she wasn’t going to start talking about piercings.

“You know, piercings and stuff.”

Bugger. Do I really want to have this conversation? I mulled it over for a second or to, considering how to respond, but before I could answer, mum continued.

“Is it a sexual thing, or something?”

She looked me straight in the eye, waiting for me to respond. My mind was racing. I don’t want to say too much to a 67 year old, let alone one that’s directly related to me.

“Well. Yeah, I guess it is…”

Mum interupted me, “Is it better when you go down then?”

Oh God. Kill me now.

“Well when I had MY tongue pierced,” I started, hoping that the reminder of my tongue piercing, which I’d had for 3 years, would cause mum to stop me mid sentence so she didn’t have to know too much about her sons sex life. But she didn’t stop me, so I continued, “it didn’t really make too much of a difference. Not in my eyes anyway, and Mel didn’t say so much.”

I stopped short of saying that my technique was good enough without a tongue stud. There was a couple of seconds of silence, so I continued.

“But I think it’s a psychological thing. Just having a piercing implies that you do more, or are more daring.”

“Well, I just don’t get it.” she replied, before turning her attention back to dinner.

Thank God she doesn’t know about my Prince Albert.