Somehow, and I honest to God have no idea how, I had a conversation with my children recently about sex.
Yeah. With two nine years old children.
The conversation included me shrieking things to my daughter such as:
"Boys will lie to you! Don't believe them! They will tell you whatever they can to get you to do stuff with them! Boys are not looking out for your best interest!"
I probably also said some other stuff. I can't really recall.
Now, keep in mind that both children think that sex means kissing with tongues. I'm not that horrible of a mother. Maybe.
Anyway, while I am ranting both children are listening with somber expressions and then the Boy Child says:
"So! Mom. How many people are you supposed to have sex with?"
No. He really asked that.
It was a pivotal moment in my life. Seriously.
I always swore I'd never lie to my kids. But that? Good God. Not a topic for anyone, much less my child. My own husband knows none of the details. We agreed when we got together: it's enough to know you've been around the block a time or two, just spare me the exact addresses.
So I said, carefully, "Well. Ideally, just one. The one you marry."
Then I quickly added, "Of course, that's in a perfect world. You know? Things don't always work out that way. After all, mommy's been married two times."
Then Boy Child, looking alarmed asked, "What do you mean you've been married two times?!!?"
I was surprised. He doesn't know his sperm donor, but he knows of his existence. I wondered to myself if he had forgotten. It's been so many years.
So I said, "You know. I'm married to Daddy. And I used to be married to your biological father."
Boy Child stared at me and said in absolute horror and disgust:
"You didn't have sex with our biological father, did you?!?!?!"
My life is awesome.