I was invited to a wedding several years ago (it was the Saturday before the 9/11 attacks) where the bridegroom and his mother, who was wearing a tight and revealing dress, did an R rated bump and grind number for their mother/son dance to a Mary J. Blije song. It was appalling. His hands were all over her - I mean ALL over her, and she probably still has marks on her forehead from his belt buckle.

The bride, who worked for my wife, was mortified. But her husband's family and friends cheered them on. I remember getting drunk at the reception and I kept telling my wife we couldn't leave til I danced with Tony's mom. But when I saw her making her way to the table, I ran for dear life.