When a parent hears highly suggestive, rhythmic groaning coming from their teenager’s bedroom, it usually sparks an immediate wave of panic.
The afternoon had started innocently enough. The teenage girl and her boyfriend walked into the house, smiled at her mom, and announced they were heading upstairs to her room. The mother nodded warmly, “Alright honey, have fun!”
But barely ten minutes later, the kitchen ceiling began to vibrate. The mother froze as a strange, repetitive chanting echoed down the stairwell:
“Baby… baby… baby… ohhh!”
Horrified by what her ears were processing, the mother sprinted up the steps, threw the bedroom door open, and demanded, “What on earth is going on in here?!”
The daughter, gasping for air and desperately pulling up the bedsheets, yelled, “Mom! Get out! We’re just having some fun!”
The mother immediately clutched her chest, letting out a massive sigh of pure relief.
“Oh, thank God. I thought you guys were listening to Justin Bieber.”
