Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I have decided that having "the talk" with my pre teen son was a hell of a lot more embarrassing for me then it was for him. I have 3 boys. I have no idea what is going through a male's mind during puberty. Quite frankly, I just don't want to know. Granted, I definitely don't want to be a grandparent anytime soon, nor do I want my child getting any STD's. However, until the other day the extent of my answers to my children's questions about "Where do babies come from?" has always remained the same. "They're a gift from GOD." My ex overheard that explanation once, and went around smiling like a goofy goober for a week. That just made me want to punch him. So, as I'm trying to explain what his body might be going through, the whole time I'm praying that I could zap into an episode of Star Trek and say "Beam me up Scotty!". Needless to say, I made it through the ordeal. I am scarred for life. I have to do this two more times.