How to Talk to Your Kids About Sex

So I’m up in Cape Cod with my dad, step-mom and godparents, which
basically means that I am the most adult-like person around for miles…in my personal opinion. However, when I asked my dad about what he thought of my maturity level, he said, “well, you’re younger than you are.” In other words, my suspicions that I am reverting to age 16 have been confirmed. Fortunately, family vacation is a great time to regress, because everyone is acting a little on the youthful side. AKA: there are fewer rules.

So a few nights ago after a nice family dinner supplemented with some very nice vodka distilled in Maine, I was getting text messages from a random somebody I had hung out with only
once in New York, and my step-mother asked who it was. As everyone knows, things that are distilled lead to funny conversations. I explained the
situation but concluded, eye-rolling, “It’s 10 o’clock at night. This
is a just a booty call.”

Step-Mom: Hmm..Booty call! I like that!
Me: Uh, you do?
SM: Yeah..Booty call! That sounds great. Really nice.
Me: It does?
SM: I like the sound of it! Booty call. Booty call.
Me: Uh, yeah. I guess…except…a booty call is basically just when
someone calls you at midnight trying to have sex with you.
SM: Oh! Oh. Well. I guess I don’t like that then.
Me: Yeah. It’s not know…
SM: Oh! I get it! Booty. Like a pirate’s booty! Like it’s a prize!
[contemplates] That’s still kind of sweet. I still like the way it
Me: Yeah…actually I think “booty” is referring to your butt. They’re
calling your butt.
SM: Oh. Haha. Oh well.
SM: Still! A booty call is better than no call at all!

Now, to be fair, since I have made much ado about the myriad glories
of my two families, I should probably mention what my Mom-Mom has to
say on the subject. We’ve had plenty of time to talk, because last
week, after she broke her foot, I went to keep her company at her
office during a three hour break between clients. I tore into the room
at a run, shrieking, “Doctor! Doctor! I have a problem. Please help
me!” and flung myself on the leather couch.

Now, 2 and a half hours is a lot of time to spend in one therapy
session with your mom, especially when you ignore everything other
than funny sound bites you can potentially use on your blog. And this
is what I got.

Me: Unless you get married at 22, it’s hard to be in your 20s in New York.
Mom-Mom: Well, you had the HPV shots. Do you whatever you want.

Now, you have to understand that this is coming from the woman who
told me when I was 13 never to let a boy buy you dinner or a drink,
because he will later think he is entitled to rape you, and that if he
tries to go to second base with you, it is your god-given right to
punch him in the face.

But two days later, my mom called to thank me for hanging out.

MM: My favorite part of the week was when you came to visit!
Me: My favorite part of the week was when you said, “you’ve had the
HPV shots, do you what you want.
MM: Haha! Are you going to put it on your blog?
Me: Well, I did think it was funny, but I really don’t want people to think…
MM: Oh! You don’t want people to know you talk about that kind of
stuff with your mom.
Me: No! Mom…God. I don’t want people to think that I have a mom who
is telling me to just do “whatever I want.” People will
know… an incorrect impression of me as a person.
MM: Oh! Haha. Right.

Now keep in mind that this all begins with my dad suggesting to me that it may time to grow up, which puts me in a bit of a Catch-22. After all, the only way to become a real adult is to rebel…


8 thoughts on “How to Talk to Your Kids About Sex

  1. the only way to become a real adult is to rebel…

    Funny, my dad used to tell me my refusal to do as I was told like a good little boy was a sign of immaturity…and people wonder where I get my propensity for messing with people's heads…

  2. LOL Rachy!!

    You did put it here. Your Mother will be very proud of you….. I wonder how many booty calls you'll get from this!!!!

    Be selective:D.

    As for your SM….oyeeeee I'm glad you got her up to speed…..that was just to funny.

    Love you baby!! Hope you're enjoying the peace up there.

  3. What I learned by being my own yoga teacher was that you can draw as much benefit from carrying out your own selection of simple postures as you can doing fancy moves because someone with authority told you to. Put that in your life, and smoke it.

    You are a teacher……you don't need them. Start your own classes and charge for them! There's a job you can do with ease and little stress.


  4. At least you have conversations with your parents where they ask questions about you and your life. That's a rarity in my world.

    Your Step-Mom is a gem. And so optimistic. Ah the innocence of those who've never been on the receiving end of a booty call ('course, I'd never EVER make one myself and NEVER have… uhhhh…)

    And then your Mom-Mom? She sounds like a treat.

    Conversation at my sister's house last weekend at one point involved my sister talking about two year old(ish) boy in the same playgroup as her two year old(ish) daughter. And how it was painfully clear that he's downright camp already.

    At which point, my mother chimes in with: “Well, you know Hugh Jackman is gay. He and his wife.”

    Right then, I hadn't put two and two together – she absolutely hates anyone who's adopted a child (she had her firstborn forcibly adopted out from under her in the late 60's).

    Stunned silence. My dad tries to make a comment or two, but I interrupt over the top.

    Me: “You just can't say that. You don't know unless you have first hand eye witness evidence. Or something”.

    M: “Oh I *know*. My friend knows someone who went to school with one of them… (mumbles into silence).

    And I say nothing more. Why? Because you can't argue with crazed and spitefully angry people.

    Moral of the story: my parents don't know very much about what's going on in my world.

    But my mother knows for CERTAIN that Hugh Jackman is gay.

    I might just have to transplant my rather largish rant here into a post containing similar bon mots from the weekend…

  5. Your SM sounds great. It's downright cute the way she fell in love with the word “booty” and no matter how you enlightened her she defended it! And she came up with a quote for the ages, too. As I recall from my wilder days, some booty calls led to nights of wonder that I'll likely still be able to recall when I'm 100. 😉

    And Svasti's weekend with the folks? Not so much fun, I think. They sound a bit like my in-laws…..who live 40 miles away but whom we have stayed away from for four years. So let's see….I've gone from the days of booty calls to the days of despise the in-laws. Regress while you can 'cuz maturity is pretty dull!

  6. You are too funny, RB. Aside from the hilarity of the entire booty conversation, I really loved the line about flinging yourself onto the leather couch. Well said.


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