One of the things that I am dreading now that I am a father is having to have a "facts of life" conversation with the children at some unspecified date in the future. Even the fact that this is many, many years away cannot stop the gnawing feeling of panic in the pit of my stomach - you know - the one you get when you realise you have made a mammoth cock-up of something important at work.
As far as I am concerned I am now wholly in favour of sex education in schools. Anything to avoid me having to think up euphamisms, and talk about "when mummy's and daddy's love one another very much...well..it's like daddy gives mummy this seed thing...well...sometimes he does...you know...if it's his birthday, or Hamilton Accies get promotion...and sometimes the seed grows...and it doesn't turn into a radish or a tulip or anything...no...not a radish...no sirree...but a baby! Isn't that amazing. Look...err...here's a fiver...go and buy a copy of FHM."
One of the women at work today mentioned that her eight year old son had come home and asked one of those questions - the ones that parents dread - "What's pubic hair mum?" One of the other girls in the office replied quick as a flash, advising that there was only one reply to that, namley - "Out of fashion, son."
Nightcap
15 years ago
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment