It happened last night.
Mr Woog had gone to his mate Rohan’s house to watch the World Cup and Jack was in the bath. I was in the kitchen making dinner when Harry wandered in and asked “Tell me the truth Mum. Have you ever sexed Dad?”
Well I just about cut my finger off.
I told him I would come and talk to him in a minute. And I had a minor panic attack. I mean the kid is 7 and has already cottoned onto something. I was not sure what to do. Should I just brush it off, make up some bullshit story and hope the whole thing would go away?
I knew I had to address it, so I poured myself a stiff vodka and tonic and sat down on the couch with Harry to have “the talk.”
Big swig of vodka.
“So darling, what do you think sexing is?”
“When you kiss and cuddle in bed.” He replied.
“Correct.” I told him. He waited for me to say something. I took a big swig of vodka. I looked at him. he looked at me. I wanted to die.
I started talking about falling in love and having funny feelings in your tummy about someone. By this stage I had a pleasant little buzz going on and was talking in circles. I was confusing myself. So I ripped off the band-aid, so to speak.
I actually used my fingers to symbolise a vagina and a penis and did the jabbing motion, like you did when you were in high school as an offensive gesture to someone. Harry was giving me nothing and remained blank faced. So then I used my hands to make a little tadpole swimming towards an egg, explaining that they joined up to make a tiny baby that grew inside the mum’s tummy and then after a long time the baby was ready to come out.
“Where does it come out?” He enquired.
Big swig of vodka.
“It comes out through the mum’s vagina.”
“How?” He asked.
“With much difficulty.” I told him.
He seemed OK with it. Not once did he look like he wanted to run away. He asked “So you and Dad have done this twice then……” So I went on to tell him that people love each other and they show their love for each other by doing it you know… like for fun.
It was this part that he found the most offensive. “You do that for fun?”
By this stage I was onto my second voddy and I really wanted to say I did it because I was nagged to death by his father and really most of the time I wanted to watch Chelsea Lately over a bowl of Maggie Beers Ice Cream, but the romantic in me told him that it was a very special thing to do. But you could not do it until you are married and even then you had to wait until you were 30 otherwise you went to jail for life.
We were done. He wandered off to play BeyBlades and I went back to the stove, slightly pissed but quite sure I had done an ok job. One down, one to go and I am totally making Mr Woog do it. Jack asks way too many questions. Oh the questions. Too many questions.