It's no coincidence
these things happen when their mother is working, or shopping, or in whatever
sense "away"
She rail roads them
early on
That might be fear.
It might be
foresight.
At any rate, much as
I am challenged by them
I am always glad
they happen,
And mostly feel like
I give good… er… decent answers.
Earlier this month I
got a vasectomy.
I am candid about
it.
In fact I probably
talk about it more than I should.
Tough shit.
It's good to talk
about this stuff…
It's been a topic of
conversation between my wife and I for several years…
And after buying the
morning after pill twice in the past 18 months…
And an enlightening
conversation about
Inaction on my part
Being another
patriarchal act..
I scheduled the
appointment.
Anyway that's all
background.
The point is I had
the surgery - I'll tell you about that another time.
And came home with a
couple specimen bags to fill and return.
They have been
sitting on the back of my toilet since - and have been the subject, not
surprisingly…
Of much inquiry.
Well it's all been
somewhat danced around until tonight.
But the Squirt
straight up asked me tonight, "Dad, what are the specimen bags for?"
"Semen," I
said, "Do you know what that is?"
"I do."
said Scooter.
Squirt did not, so I
told her.
She was fascinated
and a little queasy…
Scooter chose this
moment to draw the comparison to floral reproduction.
Then, as per her
usual mode on any topic, but this one in particular,
Scooter began her
inquisition;
"Have you guys
had sex since your surgery?"
(this is where Jen
would have stopped, no halted the conversation.)
"Yes."
"How many
times?"
"Once."
"How many times
do you have it in… like… a month?"
"Mmm, hard to
say, depends on the month, and what else is going on in our lives."
-pregnant pause
while she tried to figure out how to phrase the next question-
"So… which do
you prefer, standing up or laying down?"
"Laying
down."
"Have you ever
had it standing up?"
(And here is where I
just was totally too candid… where I knew I should have stopped but… well I'm
an idiot.)
"Not with your
mother."
"WHAAAT, you've
had sex with other people?"
"Yes."
"How
many?"
And apparently that
is my line.
That is where I said
I was uncomfortable sharing any more personal information about me…
Scooter said at this
point she thought about it a lot and was eager to experience it.
Without thinking I said
"Don't
be…"
And then I knew I
was going to have to drop some poetry to make my point…
"Why?"
"Well," I
said, "I take that back, you be eager, you feel all the feelings you need
to feel about it, you look forward to it, and explore your ideas and thoughts
about it… but… you need to be very very careful before you do anything with anybody
else about it…"
"Why?"
"Because it's
complicated… because your sexuality and your mind and your heart all work
together in sex, and because of that it can be really wonderful and magical,
or, if it's bad, it can be really hard to recover from… it can break you in to
a million pieces."
"How can it be
bad?"
"Well… if it
didn't feel like you thought it was going to feel… you might regret it… or if
it's sex you don't want to have…"
"Isn't sex you
don't want to have rape?"
"Yes you're
right - and that really isn't the same as sex at all. You are absolutely
right."
"There are a
lot of wonderful feelings that can be part of sex, things that you can express
to a person that there are no words for - and that is why it is important, and
can be dangerous to our hearts and souls… because that kind of expression is powerful,
and also vulnerable."
"What is
'vulnerable?'"
"It is a kind
of fragile feeling, showing your secretest parts of yourself, and I don’t mean
your vagina, I mean your spirit… it means letting yourself be weak with
someone…"
"You'd have to
be brave, and trust someone to do that."
"Yes. Yes,
exactly."
Then, Squirt... from the
depths of blankets on the other bed, with her mothers voice;
"Can we please
just go to sleep?"
