This weekend, I unfurled a c*ondom for my son. He was fascinated, checking out the texture, noting that it was a little slimy. Turned it around a few times. Tried rolling it up. Handed it back when he was done.<\/p>\n
Cue the Afterschool Special music. It’s that time. The boy and I, we’re talking puberty!<\/p>\n
In truth, I think the boy is a little young for “the talk.” First off, I am lucky enough to have friends who have been through this whole boy thing, and from what I see, it’s somewhere around 4th or 5th grade that boys stop talking to their moms, at least about anything of substance. In 5th grade they cover these topics in school, which is great, but I’d prefer that’s not the first place he gets that information. Secondly, he’s been asking tough questions for a while. A few months ago, he realized someone had a very young mother. He quickly did the math in his head and declared, “That can’t be right. Don’t you legally need to be eighteen years old to have a baby?” And, finally, I’ve seen some of those 4th grade girls. They aren’t getting the talk; they’re living<\/em> the talk.<\/p>\n Of course, once he gets older and is too embarrassed to talk to his mom, he can always ask Adam his questions. <\/p>\n Wait, hold on a minute.<\/p>\n Okay, I’m done laughing. Just thinking about Adam trying to talk to the boy about s*ex or his body sends me into the giggles. The boy was looking over Adam’s shoulder a week ago and read about something being “o*rgasmic.” Apparently, the boy logically asked, “What’s ‘o*rgasmic’?”<\/p>\n Adam: Aren’t you reading that book with your mom?
\nThe boy: Yeah.
\nAdam: Have you covered o*rgasms yet?
\nThe boy: No.
\nAdam: Well… you will.<\/p>\n