The Byrds and the Bees
Wednesday was Valentine’s Day, and just before dinner, my 6-year-old daughter caught my husband stealing a romantic kiss of the French variety. My daughter, horrified, covered her eyes with her hands and declared, “Ew! Stop sexy-ing her, Daddy!”
Daddy assured her that, although this was “sexy” it was not in fact “sex,” which of course led to the oft-asked and oft-dodged question, “What is sex, Daddy?”
My husband quickly changed the subject by telling her that she would learn more about that when she was older and [we were] ready for it, but for now all she needs to know is that you should only ever kiss your husband like that, but once you’re married, it’s okay. You know, the Good Baptist Parent Sex Speech.
The next morning, my daughter again brought up the subject of kissing by saying, “I plan to kiss my boyfriend a lot when I’m a grown up.” This led to all kinds of horrifying fears for me about when exactly she would declare herself a grown up, causing me to reveal, “I never kissed any boy before I kissed your Daddy.” This, sadly enough, is true, although I never fully realized that this would be a huge pay-off for being the intimidating daughter of the Baptist preacher in high school.
At this point, though, Ellie rolled her eyes and insisted, “Yes, you did, Mom. You’re just too old to remember.”
Filed under: Uncategorized on February 16th, 2007
Ben and I were both LOL on that one.
We bought a “God’s design for sex” book about 3 months ago, that we still haven’t sat down to read with Elam…ughhh…it’s definitely not one of the fun bits of parenting.