Let’s talk about sex.

I could never talk to my mother about sex. I remember our one and only painful discussion on the topic. It last 3 minutes and I couldn’t wait for her to be done. I would have rather stuck a needle in my eye than go another painful round with my mother. In fact, I believe it took her at least a month before she could look me in the eye. This ‘discussion’ happened years after my grandmother and great-grandmother had taken the time to sit me down and explained the facts of life to me as well as my obligations towards myself, my family and the wider community. I think I was about 12 years old when the Grannies set me straight. They didn’t trust my mother to do it properly, and in retrospect - they had a point.

For years, I have been waiting for the children to show enough interest to ask me questions about sex so I could share all my Granny wisdom was well as a few tips I have learned along the way but a funny thing happened. The tribe has been actively avoided asking me any questions. Even when something of a sexual nature comes up which seems like a natural starting point - like when we are watching television; all three of them desert the room enmass rather than watch it with me.

When Isaiah Sender was about 9 years old he came home one day from school and at the dinner table he announced he had Sex Ed class in school. So if I had any questions, he felt confident in being able to supply me with the correct answers. He felt the class was great because all his questions were finally answered. I was a little taken back by this because I didn’t know he had any questions so I asked him why he didn’t ask me. Isaiah Sender told me I was not enough of an expert because I only had three children and Mrs. M was on her sixth which effectively shut me up. I mean, what was I suppose to do at that point – debate a 9 year old that I knew way more about sex than his teacher?

It is not that I haven’t tried bringing up the topic of sex through the years but it is just that I get shut down by my children every time I do. They are still mad that I made all of them learn how to put a condom on a banana while blindfolded. I thought it would be an important life skill to acquire and I did think it would be more fun if I made it into a competition. Apparently, the children have pit it down to one of the worst parenting moments possible in which they have had to endure.

Montana had at least enough confidence to come to me just shortly after he had been boxing with a question about masturbation. We were walking along Bloor Street West at the time, just as most of the office buildings were letting out for the day. He wanted to know if it was a good idea to masturbate with a shop-vac. The older guys at the gym recommended the shop-vac because it could take both wet and dry. The question really startled me. I never thought I would ever be asked my opinion on the effectiveness of vacuum cleaners and masturbation, but hey, I am no prude. It would take more than to throw me completely off my game. I even managed to establish a few basic rules like “keep your hands off my Hoover Upright”. Apparently, I told him more about masturbation than he wanted to know and he ended up sulking for a week.

So why all this talk about sex? I was in the used bookstore yesterday with the Last Amazon and she got all excited about finding a “Sex for Dummies” book but refused to buy it as long as I was with her. I have to admit to having my feelings a trifle hurt that she has obvious questions but feels too insecure to ask me. It got me to thinking. Maybe children really don’t want to learn about sex from their parents and all those who complained that the parents told them nothing were, in fact, just general whiner kind of people.