For some reason this story reminded me of a question I asked my mom when I was about 7 or 8. I had been arguing with my best friend, Amy Derocher (I just realized I have no idea how to spell her last name), whose parents were pretty religious by our heathen standards, and I came into the house to settle the matter. Went and found my mom, who was taking a bath.
Me: "Mom, do you have to be a virgin to get married?"
Me: "Are you sure?"
Mom: "Yes, I'm sure."
Me: "How can you be sure?"
Mom: "Well, I wasn't a virgin when I got married, so that's how I'm sure."
At which point I went outside to the corner, (We lived next door to a church, and a short quiet block away from the city library, where a group of moms had been having some kind of civic type meeting and were leaving), and I YELLED as loudly as I could to Amy, "You do not either have to be a virgin to get married, Amy Derocher, MY MOM WASN'T!!!"
Poor mom. I suspect that's the day she learned to ask me, "Why do you want to know?" when I asked her such questions, so she could temper her answer accordingly.