Weenies And Woodies

My daughter is in the 5th grade. She just got “the talk” in school from a travelling nurse who espoused the joys of womanhood, and passed out complimentary pads.

I have nothing to worry about. I have already given her “the talk” at home. She knows all about menstruation and its spooky similarities to menopause. We talked about where babies come from; how they get in there, and how they get out. She knows about ovum and spermatozoa, weenies and V’JJs, woodies, hard-ons, masturbation, wanking, orgasms, frenching, macking, snogging, and any and all euphemisms she has ever heard, or wondered or worried about. Questions came from songs, movies, books, and grade-school hearsay. I worried that I told her too much, then too little. Most of it sounds gross to her (that’s good news), and she wondered how any of that could be remotely appealing. I said, “Wait ’til you’re older, it’s not supposed to sound tempting at your age.” We talked about how important it is to know how your own body works.

I recalled with her how, when I got the talk way back in 1975, we were shown an animated film in which giant sperm wearing blue bow ties swam happily towards the egg, who wore a big pink bow on her head and batted her big cartoon eyelashes at all the potential. Afterwards, the school nurse asked us if we had any questions. The embarrassed silence was broken by Lisa Washington, who shouted out, “What’s a boner?” The nurse mumbled something we couldn’t hear and declared the talk over.

I then had to explain to my daughter what a boner was. She said, “Eeeww!” We hugged, and I told her she could always come to me with any questions about sex and boys and ’80 music trivia.

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