Sex Education

Sex Education

“Surprise, surprise!”
Gomer Pyle

When I was about eleven and my sister was thirteen, I was elated to hear that, for the first time ever, they were going to teach sex education in school. I knew next to nothing about sex, other than that it was an exciting topic. Each kid had to get a note from his/her parents to attend this special assembly in the school auditorium.

A few days before the big event, my dad picked me up at my cousin’s house. He casually brought up the subject and then stunned me by telling me he’d like me to tell him what I learned after the event. You could have knocked me over with a feather!

I was horribly embarrassed. My dad must have known even less about sex than me! Why else would he need me to explain it? Thankfully, we never did have that conversation. Years later, when I was in college, we did have another cryptic conversation, presumably about sex. It wasn’t exactly a conversation, more like a single sentence. “You better be careful out there,” was all he said. He must have been as embarrassed about the subject as I was.

Back to the school assembly, the boys were all very excited, and I have no idea what the girls were thinking. We were all ushered into the auditorium and, as the lights were dimmed, a still image appeared on the screen of what looked like microscopic tadpoles attacking a blue golf ball. It was followed for the next hour by similarly unfathomable images, accompanied by a droning recorded voice talking about X and Y chromosomes and other information somehow related to the topic we all came to hear about.

The lights went back on, the audience of befuddled kids were ushered back into class. There was no Q&A. We went straight from the still impenetrable subject of sex right into the almost as impenetrable subject of math.

Something must have seeped through, however, as later that day, when shopping for school clothes with my mom, I worked up the nerve to ask a question. No preamble, just an awkward slowly asked question, “Is that the only way to get a baby?”

There was a long pause, and Mom simply said, “Yes.” After an even longer pause, I asked, “So that means you and Dad did that, twice?”

I don’t remember her answer to that one, but I do recall hearing years later of the retelling of that conversation to my aunt and uncle. Uncle Gordon roared with laughter and told my mom that she should have replied, “Yeah, and we did it once more, just for the hell of it.”