I was born from parents who still smelled of josticks and for a time at least tended to wear slightly flowery clothing. It’s possible, no probable that they therefore got up to a few interesting things in their formative years. Things that as a son I really didn’t ought to think about too carefully.
However things don’t change much over the generations. You could put this aversion to thinking of parents as sexual beings as being a product of our times, where we know the sexual possibilities and cower at the thought of the things that our parents might have done. The fact is however that every human being ever born has a sexuality as great as our own and it is only the way in which they have expressed it over time that has changed.
Both my maternal grandmother and her mother had interesting love lives that only came to my attention after their deaths – my father is a wealth of information when he’s had a couple of whiskies at Christmas LOL. Respect for them prevents me from saying exactly what they got up to but their behaviour betrays the fact that they were simply human and driven by the same urges as we, apparently more sophisticated, humans.
On my paternal side my antecedents were equally “interesting” a few generations back leading to a particularly colourful family skeleton that only emerged from the closet a couple of years ago.
Only a few years ago I thought I was “So normal”.
Of course I am normal; in the same way that every one of us is utterly normal in the way in which we are thoroughly and uniquely individual.
It might not be comfortable to imagine our parents, siblings or offspring having a sexual side but it is a fact of life and due to the infinite variability of human sexuality the ways in which they express themselves sexually will be surprising, alarming, amusing and deeply meaningful to them all at the same time.