Mum…do you write porn?

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Originally posted on Wednesday, December 26, 2012

My young-teen son has been an inquisitive creature since the day he was born. As he grew, so did his questions. He didn’t have older siblings to learn the facts of life from (like I did growing up), though he’s known all along he can come to me to talk about anything–my virtual door is always open to Baby Boy. I figure, if he’s brave enough to ask questions most kids his age would be too embarrassed to discuss with their mum, then he should get an honest answer from me, straight up. After all, he deserves my respect. And I’m a proud mama bear for raising my cub to feel comfortable expressing himself whenever he’s curious, no matter what the topic. I may have carefully filtered my speech when he was little–my responses kept age-appropriate– but now he’s turning into a young man and should be treated as such.

Even when he was a toddler, we said “penis” in our house. We didn’t shout it from the rooftop, or anything, but there were no “wee-wee’s”, “willy’s” or “doodles” being taught to our child. I didn’t see the point of using baby words very often when he was just as capable of learning the correct ones. I’ve always tried to use a direct parenting approach. I want him to be a happy, honest, educated, well-balanced adult who’s not rudely surprised by real life when he’s old enough to leave my nest.

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Over the years, Baby Boy has asked many questions. Some made me proud-as-punch, and a few saw me squirm. While others made me laugh out loud, awarding a well-earned high five.

“Where do babies come from?”

“But, why can’t I pee sitting down, like you do?”

“Mum, what was your first real kiss like?”

“Your first date?”

“Did you ever try drugs when you were a kid?

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

“Did you ever wag school?”

“Why were those two boys kissing each other on TV?”

“But, why are some people gay?”

“Pardon, Mum, what was that? Bi-what? Really?”

“But, why aren’t they attracted to just boys or just girls?”

“Well, Bub, who do you find more attractive? Boys or girls?”

“Oh, Mum! God, don’t be ridiculous. Girls! Definitely girls.”

“Okay, then, besides the fact that you’re a boy, and most of society simply expects you to only be attracted to girls, why do you think you’re only attracted to girls and not boys?”

“I don’t know. I just am. It’s how I feel.”

“There’s your answer, Bub.”

Of all the questions Baby Boy has fired at me since he could speak, the only one to make me really stop short was what he asked after he discovered I’d been offered a publication contract for my first book. God bless his lil’ heart, he was so proud his mum would be a real writer. But, then came the questions.

“So, Mum… what’s your book about?”

Sirens went off in my head. Maybe I should dance around the subject, tell a little white lie. But, I’d never resorted to babying him like that before, so I took a deep breath, pushed my shoulders back and told him the truth… sort of.

“I’m writing love stories, Bub. Not really anything you’d be interested in. Hey! Isn’t that one of your mates I hear calling you from outside. Might wanna go check.”

“Nah, they’ll knock on the door if they want me. So, back to this love story you’ve written. Can I see it?”

“Ah, no. Sorry, Bub, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a story for kids, that’s why. It’s an adult book.”

“Why? Is it a horror novel like your Stephen King books?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Then, how exactly?”

“Bub, have I ever told you, you ask too many questions?”

“Yes, but you said you love it when I ask questions.”

“Hmmm… did, didn’t I.”

I won’t embarrass him any further, but needless to say, Baby Boy now knows Mum writes love stories which are a little too spicy for his eyes.

When Fifty Shades of Grey became mainstream, Baby Boy saw countless media releases on TV and in magazines, etc. For several months it seemed everywhere I turned there was someone, somewhere, talking about Fifty. I knew he would be back with more questions, and I was right.

“Your book’s not like that, is it Mum?”

“What do you mean.”

“You know, people hurting each other when they have sex.”

“No, my book is not like that, but either is Fifty.”

“Yes, it is. I heard the man in that book hits the woman.”

“No, he doesn’t hit her. Not in the way you are thinking, anyway. He spanks her. There’s a big difference.”

It grew quiet, and when I finally glanced up from my desk, Baby Boy was wearing the look of a stunned mullet.

“No, you write romance, Mum. I think I’ll be stickin’ to that story, for now,” he said, before turning and walking away without another word.

Help me, Jeebus.

So, has your child ever asked an awkward question and made you blush? Care to share?

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