The Birds And The Bees

One of my mother's fondest memories of me from when I was a kid was my fifth grade "birds and the bees" assembly.  The guys went with their dads and the girls paired up with their moms and the California public school system was entrusted with the duty of effectively communicating how babies are (accidentally) made.  They did a real bang-up job - passing the buck to some "after school special" production house that made "educational videos" (read: soft core porn) about sex.

Stark silence enveloped the room after the video ended and the lights came back on.  I'm sure if a pin were to drop you'd be able to hear it, but instead everyone heard me turn to my mom and say, "I know you know how to do all that stuff, but I think I'm going to need lessons."  Adorable. 

Fast-forward to some years later when I'm disrupting the Open House at my apartment complex with screams of pure, unmitigated ecstasy during an hour of afternoon delight.  I blame the swimming pool.  Sound carries on water.

But at the time, my little fifth-grade brain couldn't comprehend what had just befallen my eyes.  So - and I'm being sincere right now - my parents thought a little follow-up tutorial with the aid of this text book would help.

Buy at Amazon!

Would help me know what, exactly?

Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle

Know that when a naked man in a bathtub offers you his toy ship, it means he's going to put his tiny penis in you?

"This is the closest two people can get."

Or is the real lesson here that fat people find love, too?

Regardless, I think my greatest take-away was that "this is the closest two people can get."  So, according to this book, I'm not a slut, I'm a deeply caring philanthropist.

Anyway, against my better judgement, I'm leaving all you parents with a parting gift: the Where Did I Come From movie.  Now your kids can grow up to be just like me.