Second rule to break, and already I’m having second thoughts about this whole blog series. Some things, you just don’t–well, okay, here, hold my beer while I break “Rule 30” and talk about my sex life.
My kids may kill me for this.
I taught my daughter about “the birds and the bees” when she was about seven. I was pregnant with her brother, and naturally, she had questions. By the time she hit puberty, she really did not want to have “the talk.” We were in the car, one day, and I broached the subject – just to keep the lines of communication open. My daughter might argue that she was a captive audience in a moving car and it was just to torture her, but really, it wasn’t. I wanted to be sure she remembered what she’d learned at seven, and to see if she had any questions. No teenaged girl really wants to have a conversation about S-E-X with her mom, but it’s important that parents not shirk their duties in this regard.
She got the basic gist. She stuck her fingers in her ears. We were so not having that conversation. And then the light dawned. “You and Dad?” She whipped her head around and looked at me in horror. “You…and Dad…did it?”
“Well…where did you think you came from?”
“Eww. But you only did it once–er, twice–right?”
“Twice?” This was progress; at least she realized we hadn’t changed our minds and had her brother grown in a hydroponic cabbage patch, to be delivered by the stork. Out came Evil Mommy. “OH! Oh, no, sweetie – to have two such perfect children as you and your brother, we had to practice. Lots.”
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