After much deliberation, hesitation and gut wrenching fear, I decided that the time had come to give my 10 year old THE TALK. I put on my game face and prepared myself. I was ready for this. I am an evolved, liberated mother right? So really how stressful could this be? My objective is to educate my child and to open up the lines of communication between us. That is what a responsible mother would do in this generation. So kudos to me!
With a clear plan in mind, I try to bring Mr G on board. Not an easy feat because Mr G is the complete opposite of me. Archaic in his thinking and behaviour, I was in for a struggle. Two hours later after lengthy discussions and negotiations of repayment, he finally relents. So we sit our daughter down and begin.
It starts of surprisingly easy. A few giggles in between but generally she has accepted all the information about anatomy very well. Cue part two. The WHAT IS SEX question that has lingered like an ominous grey cloud above our heads finally bursts and drenches all of us. Mr G shifts nervously as our daughter’s eyes widen with curiosity as I explain. I manage to get through the entire (age appropriate) step by step procedure (barring some info in between) with little drama. Throughout this entire episode Mr G has done nothing except sit and fidget and stare longingly at the black screen of our TV probably thinking about the rugby match he is missing. So in an effort to make him participate, I moved on to the Q&A part of our discussion where I encouraged Mr G to do the answering. Happy to be reaching the end of this torture – he was enthusiastic to oblige because obviously the worst part was over.
Complete and utter disaster.
Her: So daddy, if having sex is the way to make a baby, then mummy had sex twice to have me and my brother right?
Him: [serious tone] No. Mummy has sex a lot. Whenever you hear the bed making funny sounds that is us having sex.
Her: So…..then the bed was making a funny sound last night???
Him: [very serious tone] Yes and we had sex last night. Sometimes mummy also makes a funny sound and then you know we are having sex.
I want to die of shame and horror. My daughter is silent as she processes this and Mr G is as proud as a peacock thinking he deserves the “Father of the Year” award. I have no words and walk out of the room shamefully while he switches on the TV and sighs in contentment.