I have, of late, become very aware of my son.
Not that I’ve been stalking him, or keeping surveillance measures going from a hidden room in the basement or anything. Not yet. But he is 13 years old now, just starting to get a fuzzy lip and develop that peculiar sore-throat voice of burgeoning masculinity.
I am also extremely aware of exactly what his mother and I were doing to each other with gleeful enthusiasm every chance we got, when we were dating in high school. We met when we were both 15.
If this sort of habit breeds true, there is clearly a time limit here.
We’ve never had “The Talk,” exactly. We’ve always been pretty open with our words and thoughts. He’s always been free to ask what he will and we’ve tried to answer truthfully, with a minimum of bullshit. He learned to read early on and was allowed to read anything he could find in the house provided he didn’t get peanut butter on it (anything trickier than Playboy was kept stashed and moved periodically with the full awareness of how easily I found my dad’s stuff all those years ago, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t find more than half of it). He has a layman’s knowledge of the subject, he knows the mechanics and biological reasons behind the whole silly business and he received a 20 pack box of condoms for his last birthday as sort of a heads-up.
I still feel as if I should be teaching him something more. Not the “how”, but the “why”. Not just what to lick, but when.
I was extraordinarily fortunate in my own teenage years, in that I found a ladyfriend who was just as curious, just as open-minded and every bit as oblivious to common sense as myself. We experimented with anything that didn’t hurt (and, carefully and eyes-open, with a few things that did) and enjoyed a sexual awakening that was about as free of neurosis as is possible in the latter half of the twentieth century. It’s still going on, in fact: I married her. But I can only prepare my son as well as I can and hope that he finds a like-minded lady (or whatever) to play with.
Why don’t we teach our children sensuality? Why not teach them massage techniques at an early age that just happen to transfer nicely to caresses when the time comes? Why do we teach her what a penis does, but never how to make it do it slower? Well, mostly because it’s illegal and because there are some twisted people out there who abuse kids, but what’s stopping us from just talking to our kids about sensuality? The incest taboo? Embarrassment? The fear that recognizing your child’s coming-of-age means accepting your own mortality? The inability to keep from giggling when the word “spume” comes up?
All of that and more, I suspect, and there would also be the near certainty that kids so taught would find a way to try out their new skills on other kids long before rational emotional judgment was developed (say, around age 37). So, teach them the skills, but don’t tell them what the skills are for.
Practice bursting in on them at opportune moments at home so they’ll be mentally prepared to handle the abrupt shock of the flashlight in the car window.
Play pool against your son; you with a regulation pool cue and your son with a 3 foot length of rope, to help prepare him for the horrible, helpless feeling of American politics.
Train your daughter until she is able to swiftly and confidentally roll a pre-lubricated condom onto a 4 inch firehose under full pressure. She will thus be well prepared to handle most anything else she is likely to encounter.
Get your son good and drunk, blindfold him and see if he can locate a ball-bearing hidden under two thicknesses of denim.
There are several techniques available to increase your child’s lung capabilities to the point where they can hold their breath for up to 3 minutes, a staggeringly useful talent in any number of endeavors.
Push-ups, push-ups, push-ups.
Your teen should be able to lift a gallon of whole milk with any single finger.
Can she get dressed in the dark? With people screaming at her? And still look presentable in the lobby in under 35 seconds?
Can he run through a parking lot with his pants around his ankles? How can you neglect these vital skills?
Insist that urination must always be performed in fourteen segmented bursts.
Your teen may not have the slightest idea what all this is in aid of, but they will surely be grateful when they begin dating. What might have been an awkward, embarrassing encounter will occur naturally and gracefully and with a minimum of fuss.
Next week: birth control.