I’m not Rick Santorum and he definitely wouldn’t approve of this blog...
So where was I...
Oh yes, sex.
A subject I’ve never been good at.
But practice makes perfect, right?
Well a few days ago I had a sexual encounter I had never experienced before.
It involved me.
And my 14-year-old daughter.
Now before you take this into the gutter.
And go all Mackenzie Phillips on me.
Slow down.
You see my daughter had a big exam a few days ago.
And she needed some help with studying.
Unfortunately for her I was the only one around.
But I did my best.
When it comes to English, I’m pretty good with words.
And when it comes to Math, I’m ok with numbers.
But when she told me it was about the reproductive system.
I broke into a deep sweat.
Not because of the subject.
But because of the company.
I’ve been talking about the reproductive system since I was a kid.
But talking about that with my kid?
That’s an entirely different story.
Fortunately the assistant principal at her elementary school took care of the basic stuff when she was in fifth grade.
That’s when he gets the boys in one room.
The girls in another.
And gives them an open book lecture on the birds.
And the bees.
No parents.
No giggling.
Just the facts.
Ok, there’s probably a little giggling.
But thankfully the kids walk away with a better understanding.
And I walk away with some new material.
Like the other day when my 13-year-old son wanted to play catch with me in the backyard.
I told him if he didn’t put away the dishes first, he’d be playing with himself.
‘That’s called masturbation,” I said.
He laughed.
I laughed.
His older sister laughed.
His younger sister said, “what?”
I’m not sure Rick Santorum would approve of my parenting, but from where I’m sitting.
So far, so good.
Now four years removed from that fifth grade speech, my high school daughter has moved on from all that yucky stuff.
And is now concentrating on the real stuff.
Like the bulbourethral glands.
The vena cava.
And the vas deferens.
Terms I can comfortably say, I had never heard of.
Until two nights ago.
But fortunately she had the definitions written on the back side of the index card.
So all I had to do was say the name.
Ask for the definition.
And bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Sometimes that worked.
Sometimes it didn’t.
For both of us.
When I asked her to define that bulbourethral thing.
She started with “during sexual arousal...”
That was followed by “hee hee hee.”
Something you might expect from a 14-year-old.
The problem is I’m 44.
But thankfully after a few childish moments.
I grew up.
And actually became quite helpful.
Really.
She had a hard time remembering what the urethra did.
So I looked at the definition.
And started singing it.
To the tune of “Think”.
By Uretha Franklin.
Who else.
Problem solved.
She also struggled with the epididymis.
That’s a long coiled tube that does something involving sperm.
I told her to that she would remember that definition since it was a long coiled word.
And you can’t spell sperm without epididymis.
Ok, the R is missing.
But for learning purposes, it did the trick.
After a slow start, we were actually able to maintain a mature learning conversation.
Even though every time she referred to the main parts.
They were always, “pee pee” and “va jay jay.”
But the bottom line is after a good hour of studying.
And bonding.
My daughter was ready for her test.
And I was ready to show her my favorite video involving the subject matter we had been discussing.
Courtesy of those two great scholars.
Beavis and Butthead.
It was the episode where the boys were having a hard time going through a school day without laughing.
Well the principal had had enough.
One more laughing spurt and they would be expelled.
Only problem was, for them, is that was the day they had Sex Ed class.
With Coach Buzzcut.
If you’ve got six minutes, click on the link below.
It just might possibly be the best six minutes of your day.
1 comment:
you're ok in my book, mr. bacon guy. keep writing ...
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