The Birds, Bees and Chocolate Cake

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When Skudro Bodine was just 5 years old he called from the backseat of the car and asked me what sex was. I told him it meant whether you were a boy or a girl. That is called what “sex” you are. He said, “No, the other kind of sex, what is it?”

Skudro Bodine is a gifted child, I have the Dr. bills and paperwork to prove it. He has always looked at life a little different and I have never lied to him. He was born with a built in bullshit detector. So when he asked at 6 if Santa was real I told him the truth, that I would hate not to believe in Santa, but he pressed the subject more. “Is there really a Santa Claus?” I told him “No, but I thought it was tragic not to want to believe in Santa at 6.”

The one thing I knew for sure, if I played dumb about the sex thing he would never believe me again. So I told him if he remembered to ask after we got home I would tell him. We got home unloaded the car and everything was fine, until the little voice crept up behind me again. “Mom, you said you would tell me what sex is?”

I asked, “Do you really want to know, ’cause it can get kinda gross?” He was in, so I cut off a slice of chocolate cake sat him down at the dinner table with a tablet of paper and started talking. I drew pictures of fallopian tubes and sperms. We talked about eggs and the penis. All the while he was glued to the pictures with wide eyes devouring that damn chocolate cake. I will never forget the way his eyes bulged when we talked about the sperm fertilizing the egg. We covered all the basics he needed to know with the proper terminology, and appropriate amount of clinical antheseptic. There were several very crude drawings and he got the overall picture.

I got up from the table ready to move on with the day, and asked if he was okay. He said he was. So I asked do you have any questions for me? He only had one. He thought for a long time and asked me with all seriousness, “Where do the chickens go?” I am guessing I didn’t make my point about the eggs clear enough.

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