Back when we learned that Alison would have a sexuality lesson during her 5th grade year, Jeff and I offered to talk with her beforehand. We could do it at home, just the three of us, or just she and I. Whatever she wanted.
She looked me dead in the eyes and declined, saying, "Look. I only want to have to learn that stuff once."
Well, once is upon us.
We had actually braced ourselves for the lecture yesterday. Alison and I were going to attend. A parent is required. Two are optional. We opted for me, and Alison was a little worried. "Madison says they're going to show us how to make a baby!" she reported on Monday.
On Tuesday, she "OMG, Mom. We had better not have to sit in the same room with the boys. I do NOT want to have look at their junk getting hair on it, and I'm pretty sure they don't want that either."
On Wednesday, I didn't work out and pick her up as I generally do: in sweaty sweats and sneakers. I had on slacks and a sweater set, fully prepared to face down the sex teachers. The lecture starts at 6:30 so we'd planned a quick snack and then something fun after it ended at 8. I was sure I'd need a drink. I'm pretty sure Ali was thinking ice cream.
Turns out we would have been a week early had we gone, a fact we learned before we actually drove over to the off-site sex center. Frustrated, Alison said, "Let's just go now and get it over with."
Alas, they don't teach sex 24/7, so we have another week to wait. In the interim, I've been informed that it's not a dressy affair.
"Can you just wear a Billy Currington tee-shirt and jeans? None of the other moms will be fancy," she asked.
I agreed. I really do want to make her as comfortable as possible. We haven't decided yet if I get to sit WITH her or if I'll be shunted to the back row. That'll be determined on-site, after she gets the lay of the land. For sure, neither of us will be anywhere near anyone with different body parts, hairy or bald. That much is clear.
So last night, ran an errand that Jeff would have done while Ali and were off being educated. That left he and Ali to take a walk. (It was chilly. I was happy to be in the car with a heater and a radio.) They took a small ball, as is their good weather walking habit, to entertain themselves with along the way.
Alison has recently been watching a lot of the aptly named, "Annoying Orange" online show that features animated fruit who take part in highly annoying and often inappropriate antics. One of the recent episodes that has gotten repeat play features a leprechaun whose delicate parts are abused. "Oooh! Me Shamrocks!" he'll exclaim, sending Alison into giggle fits that last for days.
During the walk, Jeff got smacked with an unexpected bounce. So of course, he doubled over and cried out, "Oooh! me Shamrocks!"
Alison doubled over too. But in laughter. Minutes later, she, too, fell victim to an errant bounce.
"Oooh! Me Shamrocks!" she exclaimed.
"Alison, you don't have any shamrocks," retorts her father.
She immediately doubled over again. "Ooh! Me pot of gold!"
I'm not sure she needs that sex class...