Brains are delicate things…
I was about 10 or 11 when we visited my Aunt Edie. I’d already had “the talk,” and I had a fairly good idea of what “adult” meant. Adult movies. Adult videos. Adult magazines. I was told that my Aunt Edie now lived in an “adult community.” Now, my aunt was a good 80 years old by this point, and I’d met her wrinkly ass at a few family gatherings, so when we got to the (clearly labeled) adult community, I got really creeped out. I asked my parents if they were really supposed to bring a kid in here, and upon more questioning explained my reasoning.
After laughing so hard my dad had to stop the car, they cleared everything up.
From late august 2004 “Savage Love” column