The Daily WORD is AMOMAXIAPHOBIA
Date nights in the early ‘60s often included the decision to park or not to park. That is, make love (or go as far as we dared) in The Car. Most of us did not suffer from amomaxiaphobia — fear of making love in the car. That was back when there were safe places to park in the Chicago ‘burbs. We all had our personal cornfield, but my friend M. had the best. Twice she and her boyfriend J. got stuck in their cornfield, and twice the kindly farmer got his tractor and pulled them out before curfew.
Then one night, M. decided it was time to seal the deal with J. She would surprise him and packed a naughty purple nightie in her purse. Never mind it was January. To make love, one needs a nightie – right? They parked in their personal cornfield, and J was certainly surprised to see the naughty purple nightie. “Well, we did it,” M confessed 40 years later, maybe because it was our last visit with our high school friend Dee, who was dying of cancer. Nothing but truth was worth sharing that weekend.
Long after curfew, they realized the car was stuck in the mud. M flung her naughty purple nightie out the window and J trudged off to wake the farmer while she put on her twin set and pleated skirt. The farmer was obliging as always, and M was home before dawn. Her father, who had been waiting up for her, announced that only prostitutes and police officers were out at 4 a.m. She doesn’t remember her reply — only relief that the naughty purple nightie was in the cornfield and her skirt wasn’t inside out.
No barleychild (born six months or less after marriage) resulted from the adventure. After college, she married J. and they had three sons.