What you would ask if you suffered from severe brain farts. What she would say if she wasn’t trying to be a role model.

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Our mothers always told us to treat others the way we would like to be treated. They waxed on the importance of moisturizing, gave invaluable lessons in the art of the white lie and, when we were of age, they were ready with a shot of whiskey and a ceremonious “let’s egg his house” anytime we came home with a broken heart. We call them now for advice on how to make their famous baked salmon, how to appropriately hand-wash a new sweater and to ask the trivial, even sometimes embarrassing, questions only a mother can answer sans judgment. We tell them about our lives in great detail, but in an effort to maintain a somewhat put together image, however many miles away from home, we leave out the gritty parts that would undoubtedly make them squirm. Why? So they can sleep at night knowing that their girls can function as normal human beings in society. If only they knew…

Let’s pretend for a moment our mothers wouldn’t recoil in horror if we told them about, let’s say, last weekend. Let’s imagine they wouldn’t shit twice and die if we delved into the details of that pregnancy scare or shared that hilarious anecdote with the homeless man during a fairly routine walk of shame. Our friends can only offer peer insight. More often than not, their lives are even more unhinged than our own. A fact made evident by slurred responses and glassy stares around the time “only bad things happen” at bars followed by an abrupt disappearance with the guy who looks like a mustachioed Jesse Eisenberg. Friends are instigators. They tell us to eat the cookie and to ‘just text him’ despite our better judgment. They want the story. Their youthful curiosity only supersedes our own. They stand for fun over function; they’d rather derision than dignity.

Lest we forget our mothers most likely lived through these situations, though they might only tell us highly censored versions, and could ante up some actually useful information. Maybe she was caught pants down by the local police in the back of Durango at whatever local makeout point at 16 or dropped LSD at a roller disco with a Tom Selleck look-a-like. Maybe she wore a lot of gold. She might tell us to not go home with him, to avoid doing mysterious drugs in the bathroom with strangers and to, “Yes, for god’s sake, shave on the third date.” But she won’t, because she’s still trying to be a role model.

In an effort to save you, and your mother, the humiliation that would inevitably follow these questions, here’s a WWMS (What Would Mom Say) advice column to help you out. It’s what you might ask if you were unknowingly lobotomized and what she might say if she weren’t trying to be, you know, your mom.

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On hooking up

Daughter: Should I take off my flesh-colored underwear in the bathroom before we round third base?

Mom: Why on earth are you wearing flesh colored underwear?

Daugther: Laundry day.

Mom: You should really do your laundry more often.

Daughter: …This matter is time sensitive.

Mom: Yes, stick them in your purse. He’ll think you went commando all night.

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On dancing on tables

Daughter: Should I get up there with my friends?

Mom: Are you wearing flesh colored underwear?

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On Sexting

Daughter: Should I send this photo?

Mom: Just make sure to crop your face out.

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On STDs

Daughter: He doesn’t have a condom, should we go for it and I’ll just take Plan B?

Mom: Sure, but try finding a husband with the clap.

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On Plan B

Daughter: How late it too late to take it?

Mom: After 72 hours. USE A CONDOM.

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On the first date

Daughter: He just told me he loves The Dave Matthews Band.

Mom: Run.

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On the third date

Daughter: He’s cooking me dinner at his place.

Mom: Wax if you have time. Two drinks, tops. Bring dessert so he thinks you’re domestic. Best to trick them in the beginning

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Closing time at a bar

Daughter: If I squint one eye and take one more shot, he may kind of look like

Mom: So, sober he looks like Steve Buscemi?

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On pregnancy scares:

Daughter: I’m two weeks late.

Mom: Find a pregnancy test and a bottle of water.

Mom: And then a flight of stairs.

Mom: And then a box of condoms.

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At a concert

Daughter: I think the bassist is making eyes at me.

Mom: Have fun, but try finding a husband with the clap.

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