My Gay Friend's Hot Mum

"Mum," Josh groaned. "Please don't start."

"Start what?" Chelsea giggled.

I still couldn't stop staring at Chelsea even though I knew it was rude to stare. I just couldn't believe she was Josh's mother. Chelsea looked over at me and said, "I'm 34-years-old, Sophie."

"Mum, why did you have to say that?" complained Josh. "Nobody was asking."

"I could see that look on young Sophie's face, wondering how I could be your Mum, it was just easier to bring it out in the open straight away."

"I didn't, I wasn't thinking that ..." I stammered but Chelsea cut me short.

"It's okay Sophie, everybody thinks that when they see Josh and I together," said Chelsea. "I look young anyway, and I had Josh really young. All teenagers mess up, some a little bit and some a lot. I was a teenager who messed up a lot, and when I was 16 I was in the women and children's hospital, giving birth to Josh. Not that I regret it, it was the best mistake in my life, I brought my tall, fit, handsome son who I love more than life itself into the world."

Despite her petite size and Josh's height, Chelsea reached up and ruffled her son's hair, something that embarrassed him even more. "My tall, fit, handsome and gay son."

"Mum, why did you have to say that?" Josh snapped, going bright red.

"What's the problem, I'm just stating a fact," said Chelsea. "I'm not ashamed of you being gay, I'm proud of you having the courage to come out so young. I take it you've told Sophie that you're gay? It's not like I'm outing you, is it?"

"Yes, I have told her, but if I hadn't then it wouldn't be the first time you've outed me." Josh scowled at his mother.

Chelsea brushed her son's concerns off with a laugh and turned to me. "My big gay son is the world's biggest drama queen sometimes, don't you agree Sophie?"

Josh gritted his teeth. "Mum, what are you doing here?"

Chelsea answered deadpan. "The house is in my name, and the last I checked I paid the mortgage and the bills."

"No, I thought you were going to the dentist after work. What happened with that?"

"Oh, the dentist was sick today and I had to reschedule my appointment," said Chelsea. "Did you deliberately invite Sophie here when you thought I would be out of the house?"

I was feeling a little uncomfortable. "It it's a bad time, if you need to sleep before your next shift I can come back some other time."

"Shift?" Chelsea looked confused. "I'm a legal secretary at a law firm. It's mainly nine to five."

"It's okay, I think I got confused, I'm mixing you up with somebody else," I said, feeling anxious and that I had made a bit of a faux pas.

"Where are Jason and Kiera?" asked Josh.

"They're out with their friends, I'm going to collect them later." Chelsea put a mischievous smile on her pretty face. "Or you can pick them up from their play dates."

"Mum!" snapped Josh indignantly.

"Oh come on Josh that happened in 1984, it's time you got over it, it's been over 12 years now," said Chelsea. She turned to me and laughed. "My son still hasn't forgiven me for something I said the first year he started school. He'd met a new friend, and all I did was say to the boy's mother how good it was that Josh had made a little friend so quickly, and how about we arrange a play date for our sons."

Josh sighed. "Here's the thing Mum. Older boys are judgmental of many things and one of those things they especially disapprove of is other boys having 'little friends' and going on 'play dates'. They feel the need to beat up younger kids who have play dates and flush their heads down the toilet, which is what happened to me when you opened your mouth and they overheard you say the first stupid thing that came into your mind, and that was the words 'play date'."

Chelsea looked at me. "It was so sad the day that happened, my poor little boy coming home from school all covered in dirt, his clothes all torn and muddy, his head wet from getting it flushed in the loo and him crying."

Josh put on a sulky look. "I wasn't crying."

"Oh yes you were," laughed Chelsea. She turned to me. "Josh thinks I exist to embarrass him."

"That's very accurate, Mum."

Chelsea laughed her girlish giggle. "I think my son is over-sensitive. I can't believe some of the things that he gets embarrassed about. Like last year."

"Mum, if you're thinking about telling the story I'm thinking about, then please don't," pleaded Josh.

Chelsea ignored her son's protests. "Last year, I got the flu with the works. Runny nose, sneezing, sore throat, blocked sinuses, coughing, fever, muscle cramps, headache, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. I was off work over a week stuck in bed. Now young Josh was very good most of the time, getting me soup, hot drinks and fresh water, driving the younger kids to appointments and doing the housework I normally did. But as soon as my period arrived for its monthly visit, my big brave gay son freaks out when I asked him to go to the supermarket and buy me more pads."

"Mum, this is so embarrassing," protested Josh.

"All you had to do was get in my car, drive to the supermarket, buy some sanitary pads and bring them back to me," said Chelsea, her giggle still in her voice. "What's so hard about that? You made it sound like I made you walk through swarms of angry bees, trek through a jungle full of tigers and lions or swim across a crocodile infested river to buy them. Your poor Mum is sick in bed with the flu and has her period, and you think it's the most terrible in the world having to buy her pads. You came back looking like you had been traumatized by spending years in a prisoner of war camp."

Josh looked like he wanted to be struck by lightning and burned to a crisp. "As interesting as this is Mum, Sophie and I need to study economics."

"Economics, I never studied economics at high school," said Chelsea. "I was too busy changing your nappies and training you to use a big boy toilet."

Chelsea laughed at her son's embarrassment and looked at me. "I'm sure Sophie is more interested in learning more about our family than reading about boring old economics, wouldn't you Sophie?"

Josh was red as an over-ripe tomato and I shifted awkwardly on the spot, feeling like a kangaroo caught in the headlights, not knowing what to say. Chelsea didn't wait for my response, and to Josh's dismay got out a family photo album from the cabinet.

"It's sort of a rite of passage, parents embarrassing their kids by bringing out the photos," said Chelsea. She sat down on the couch, me again seeing her panties up her short little dress as she did so, and patted the space next to her. "Come and sit down and I'll show you all the things about our family my son hasn't bothered to tell you."

Not sure what to do, I went and sat next to Chelsea and she opened the album. Josh simply stood there as rigid as a statue, not able to speak.

"These are the twins Jason and Kiera when we brought them home from the hospital with their big brother," said Chelsea. I looked at the photo of the then 8-year-old Josh posed with a baby boy dressed in blue and a baby girl dressed in pink.

"And here's all of us together, taken the same day," said Chelsea. Chelsea indicated the next photograph, showing herself posed with her young son and the two babies, her stomach obviously not back to normal size after her pregnancy.

To her side was a skinny young man, and if one was to think of a stereotypical Aussie bogan, this guy was it to a tee. Dressed in a black heavy metal tee-shirt with a flannel check shirt over the top, tight black jeans and desert boots, the young man's hair was cut in the mullet style, growing down onto his shoulders.

"This is Richie, my ex-husband. He's Jason and Kiera's dad, and Josh's step-father. We divorced four years ago, Richie got a religious calling and went on a pilgrimage."

I thought Chelsea was kidding around as her ex-husband looked about one of the least likely people to find religion. Josh spoke up. "Mum, he didn't find religion. He moved to Canberra and joined a cult that worships UFOs."

Chelsea blushed. "Josh darling, I thought we agreed we don't discus that in front of people?"

Josh looked at his mother in derision. "Why not Mum? You talk about whatever stupid thought comes into that head of yours -- a place where there's plenty of room for dumb thoughts -- why shouldn't I say the truth about Richie?"

I was getting a little annoyed at Josh. It was clear that he and his mother didn't get along that well, that she had made mistakes when she was younger and probably wouldn't be winning any prizes for Melbourne's best mother but the way Josh spoke to her like that was most disrespectful. I wouldn't dream of speaking to my mother like that.

Chelsea was also irritated and glared at her son. "Josh, Richie had a traumatic experience that caused all that."

Josh laughed bitterly. "A traumatic experience? He passed out on the Williamstown beach, drunk out of his mind as usual and thought he saw a UFO and was then abducted by aliens that came out of the aforementioned UFO."

"I still can't explain it," said Chelsea. "What did Richie see that night to make him change so much?"

Josh shrugged. "A plane circling over Port Phillip bay on its way to land at the airport perhaps? A helicopter? The navigation lights on a yacht's mast? A shooting star? And as for being abducted by aliens and them keeping his wallet so they could find him again in the future, those were the teenagers that found him passed out and stole his wallet. Only they would have been wasting their time and effort, most of his money had been handed over the bar at the pub as usual."

"Well, whatever happened that night had some effect on Richie," said Chelsea.

"Some effect?" Josh laughed. "Like going out at night looking for more UFOs, making crop circles in the park across the street to attract flying saucers to our neighborhood, painting pictures of aliens and spacecraft and inviting other UFO freaks to the house for meetings about them? Richie taking off for Canberra to join the cult and worship flying saucers all day was the best thing he ever did. He was a lousy husband to you, a lousy father to the twins and a lousy stepfather to me."

"Richie had his problems but he wasn't all bad," said Chelsea. "He never hit me or any of you kids even when he was drunk."

"Really Mum, that's how you judge how a man is good? That he didn't hit you or his kids or step-son even when he got drunk. That he spent most of the household budget on booze and betting at the TAB and never took responsibility for anything in life doesn't count? How much maintenance has he paid you for Jason and Kiera since he shot through?" Josh glared at his mother in derision.

Chelsea was clearly not impressed. "Josh please, you're embarrassing Sophie."

Chelsea was correct there, but I stayed quiet, not wanting to get involved. I felt like I had wandered onto the set of a soap opera or some community theatre play.

"Sorry Mum, I didn't mean to stand on your toes. Embarrassing the family is your responsibility, I'm so very sorry I stepped over the line today. It won't happen again."

Chelsea turned her attention away from her son and back to me. "Let's change the subject."

"Yes Mum, go into denial as usual, that's your way of dealing with things."

Chelsea gave her son a smile. "You sound just like your grandfather, who I am just about to show Sophie a photograph of." She indicated the next photograph in the album, which was at the Geelong foreshore, with the charming statues and distinctive pier in the background. Given the ages of Josh and his siblings in the photo, it probably was taken in 1993 or 1994.

"This is me and Josh as you would already know." Chelsea indicated herself and her son. "And this is Jason and Kiera, Josh's brother and sister." Chelsea indicated the younger kids standing in front of them. Kiera looked somewhat like her mother, while Jason looked like a younger version of his father, and no doubt would be a part of the next generation of Australian bogans.

Chelsea pointed to a handsome blonde man and attractive woman with red hair to her left side in the photograph. They looked to be aged in their mid-30s and were posed with two girls and a boy who were obviously older than Jason and Kiera, but not as old as Josh. "This is my older brother Andrew, his wife Laura and their daughters Annabel and Katie and son Julian."

To Chelsea's right-hand side were an older couple, probably aged in their mid-late 50s. The woman was tall, slim and with gray hair cut in a short and severe bob. She didn't smile for the photograph and neither did the man. The tall and stern-faced man had grey and thinning hair, glasses and a beard that was not quite a standard beard and not quite a goatee beard either.

"That's my mother Barbara," said Chelsea, indicating the tall woman, then pointed at the older man. "Now Sophie, which famous person does my father Jim remind you of? Who is my Dad's celebrity look-alike?"

The answer was obvious. If the picture was taken in black and white and all elements dating it to the later part of the 20th century removed, I would have said it was a photograph of the man himself. "Sigmund Freud?"

Chelsea clapped her hands. "Well done Sophie, right first time. And Dad's occupation believe it or not is a psychiatrist."

I was stunned. "Your father is a psychiatrist?"

"That's right. A Freudian psychiatrist. He uses the work of Freud as his point of reference. My brother's wife Laura is also a psychiatrist, but she is more of a Carl Jung fan. Laura and Dad have some interesting debates at Christmas and holidays, that's for sure. She's a bit more relaxed than Dad. Whenever I'm with my Dad, I always worry he's psychoanalyzing every word I said."

I looked again at Chelsea's father and Josh's grandfather and Doctor Levitt appeared to be staring back at me from within the photograph through his glasses, his eyes following me like one of those creepy paintings where the subject's eyes appear to follow the observer around the room. It was like Jim Levitt was looking deep into my soul, accessing all my private thoughts and analyzing them, finding Freudian answers for everything I did and said in my life. While I had obviously never met him, I was thoroughly frightened of Josh's grandfather and hoped that I didn't have to meet the psychiatrist in person.

Barbara Levitt also looked pretty scary, but in a strict sort of way. I wouldn't have wanted to get on her wrong side that was for sure. "My mother is a doctor too, she's a pediatrician, she works with children," Chelsea offered.

I was a bit shocked. Doctor Barbara Levitt looked to be a cold and stern woman, and while I was not impolite enough to say it aloud, more like the autocratic ruler of either the Western Region of Oz or the land of Narnia. Of any type of medical practitioner she could have been, a pediatrician would have been my last guess. If Mum had taken me to see a doctor who looked like her when I was a little girl I would no doubt have burst into tears and clung to Mum's skirt, crying and pleading not to be made to go in there with the scary doctor.

"My brother Andrew is also a doctor, a gynecologist," said Chelsea, me immediately getting mental images of lying on a bed with my panties off and my feet in stirrups with Chelsea's brother examining my vagina but I tried to banish the thoughts, as the family patriarch Jim Levitt stared at me through the photograph, no doubt analyzing my imaginings against Freud's published works.

"Everyone is a doctor in my immediate family except for me," said Chelsea. "When people ask my parents about me, they always say the name of the law firm I work for, making it sound like I might be a barrister or a solicitor rather than a legal secretary. Talk about lying by omission." Chelsea turned the page. "Here's some photos of Josh when he was a little boy," said Chelsea, showing me one from circa 1980 where Chelsea was posed with her toddler son, the girl clearly way too young to be a mother.

After looking over some more photographs for the next five minutes, the embarrassed Josh finally found his voice. "Mum, Sophie and I really need to study economics now," he said.

"Okay then Josh," said Chelsea. "I should say no to you taking such a pretty schoolgirl like young Sophie here to your bedroom unsupervised, but I think Sophie is pretty safe from you making a move on her."

Josh shook his head at his mother's girlish giggle, blushed and led me to his bedroom mumbling under his breath. We tried to study economics but Josh was pretty flustered and not really able to help me all that much with the areas I was having trouble with, and our study session ended after half an hour with Josh saying, "I'll walk you back to the tram stop before it gets too late."

Going through the lounge, Chelsea had put down her romantic novel and was now dusting, looking so cute in her baby-doll dress really meant to be worn by a young girl my age not the mother of a teenager. Chelsea gave me a smile and a wave goodbye. "It was so nice meeting you Sophie, and I hope to see you again sooner rather than later."

"Yes, it was nice to meet you too, Chelsea," I said, returning the smile and wave before Josh led me out of the house, clearly fuming as we walked down the street.

"Your Mum seems really nice," I volunteered, hoping to break the tension.

"Easy for you to say, you're not related to her. Do you know how hard it is having a family member who embarrasses you all the time?"

I looked at Josh. "As a matter of fact I do. Have you ever called my house and had my brother answer and inform you that I can't come to the phone because I'm on the toilet?"

Josh took a second too long to say, "Um, no."

I smiled. "Liar. It's the same with Imogen, her younger brother is always telling people who call her house that she's on the loo. Family members often embarrass other family members."

"Yeah but your brothers do that because they're young and don't think before they speak," said Josh. "Mum is 34-years-old, and she just lets whatever is in her mind come out of her mouth. One time a few years ago we went on a picnic in the Dandenongs, and Mum went off to the ladies room. She comes out a few seconds later, and all she had to do was ask me to go to the car and get the box of tissues. She didn't have to yell out across the picnic ground 'Hey Josh you can run faster than me, can you please go back to the car and get me the tissues? There's no toilet paper in the ladies' room and I really need to have a poo.'"

I was unable to stop myself laughing and Josh was unimpressed. "Yeah, laugh it up Sophie, you weren't the one who weren't so embarrassed that you were thinking about which suicide method was the quickest. And Mum being Mum, she didn't stop there. I was seemingly taking too long, so Mum yells out, 'Josh, can you run faster please? I'm having an emergency, one false move and it's game over for my knickers.' People are looking over, and there's this large group from a Christian Church having a day's outing who heard all of it. There was an older couple from that group standing near Mum when I was coming back with the tissues and Mum turns to them and said, 'I think I'll be avoiding vegetarian food from now on, it's supposed to be healthy but my bowels don't agree.' Anyway, Mum goes off to the toilet, and when she comes back over 15 minutes later she passes the same old couple and says to the wife, 'If I were you, I'd stay out of the ladies' toilets for an hour at least. Phew'. She fanned her hand under her nose then laughed, like it was all a big joke."

"Maybe your Mum was embarrassed about getting caught short with no toilet paper and was just acting like that to cover it up?"

Again, Josh scowled. "You sound like my Grandpa, with all his talk about 'subconscious desires' and the rest of his psychoanalytical babble. Mum is just an embarrassment, like the way she talks about her periods."