My blog friend over at The Pursuit of Normal posted a funny story about having "The Talk" with her son. You know THE talk. It's funny and you should read it. But not yet, because it caused me to reminisce about THE talk with our sons, so you have to read mine first. I see you smiling, but I'm not kidding. Stay here and read mine and then you can go read hers.
For the record, I did try to help. I went online and researched the topic out the wazoo. If you haven't yet had the joy of THE talk, may I recommend PBS's web site for just this topic - it does all the "talking" for you. It even offers your son(s) helpful advice like "If you're standing up and you're afraid that someone might notice you have an erection, just casually hold something, like a book, in front of your pants. Chances are, it will go away soon." FYI - That's not one of my jokes - it actually says that.
FLASH FORWARD TO TWO WEEKS LATER:
My phone rings and it's SAH. He was letting me know he just finished having THE talk (finally!) and the Q & A portion didn't go as planned. Mr. Schmee was apparently completely disinterested about this now (I guess he hadn't seen any hot girls lately?) and asked if he could turn the television back on and Max sat there quietly, head down. When Schmee left the room, SAH asked him again if he had any questions. Max lifted up his head and with tears in his eyes told SAH, "I never want to talk about this ever again," ran upstairs to his room and slammed the door shut. He was up there for TWO hours.
SAH said he didn't really say anything except the normal stuff, but whatever he said has kept them from talking about it, mentioning it, looking for it on the internet - all those things I'm supposed to be worried about. Neither one of them have ever brought it up again. Hopefully Max will not be scarred for life and hopefully Schmee will discover that it really is much more interesting than television.
In the meantime, I'm amazingly cool with not being asked by my teen/pre-teens to go to Hooter's anymore.
I'll start at the beginning. It was the summer of zero -nine...
I was at work, working and my phone rings. It's SAH. And I'm not surprised because he likes to call me at work 137 times a day to ask me what I'm doing. I answer.
Me: I'm working. That's what I'm doing. That's what I'm doing every single time you call.
Super Awesome Husband: That's not what I ask every time, but that's not why I'm calling. Um. I need help.
Me: With...?
SAH: (THE LOUDEST SIGH EVER) I was talking to the boys while we were cleaning their room and I told them after we got done, I'd take them to get lunch. (SECOND LOUDEST SIGH EVER.)
Me: Okay.
SAH: Mr.Schmee (Son #2) said that he wanted to go Hooter's (FYI - we still have never been in Hooter's. Not that there's anything wrong with that - but they've never asked again.) and before I could tell them I was thinking more like Taco Bell, Max (Son #1) said he didn't want to go there. (I was wrong earlier - this was THE LOUDEST SIGH EVER.)
Me: Okay.
SAH: Well then Mr.Schmee asked why and Max said he didn't want to go because every time he saw a hot girl he got "hard down there, " and then Mr. Schmee said that's been happening to him too, and then they both looked at me and asked "Why?"
Me: (LAUGHING.) Seriously?! Wow. I didn't realize that started happening so early. I'm sorry honey, but that's hilarious. So what'd you say.
SAH: Nothing yet. I told them to finish folding clothes and I came downstairs to call you.
Me: You didn't tell them anything?
SAH: No! What do I say?
Me: (LAUGHING SOME MORE-because I am a great wife.)
SAH: Stop laughing at me and tell me what to say.
Me: Dude. I love you, but you're handling this on your own. Or I'll trade you both the boys for Tomboy Princess when her day comes.
SAH: (SIGHS) Never mind. I've got it.
FLASH FORWARD TO TWO WEEKS LATER:
My phone rings and it's SAH. He was letting me know he just finished having THE talk (finally!) and the Q & A portion didn't go as planned. Mr. Schmee was apparently completely disinterested about this now (I guess he hadn't seen any hot girls lately?) and asked if he could turn the television back on and Max sat there quietly, head down. When Schmee left the room, SAH asked him again if he had any questions. Max lifted up his head and with tears in his eyes told SAH, "I never want to talk about this ever again," ran upstairs to his room and slammed the door shut. He was up there for TWO hours.
SAH said he didn't really say anything except the normal stuff, but whatever he said has kept them from talking about it, mentioning it, looking for it on the internet - all those things I'm supposed to be worried about. Neither one of them have ever brought it up again. Hopefully Max will not be scarred for life and hopefully Schmee will discover that it really is much more interesting than television.
In the meantime, I'm amazingly cool with not being asked by my teen/pre-teens to go to Hooter's anymore.
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