Sex Education with Hex My Ex...Part Two

There are times, you know, when I feel that I wasn't quite cut out to be a mother, what with being the squeamish type.

Yet again, it was sex education time tonight. And tonight, the questions and comments really were getting a bit too close to the bone.

The conversation started off with a major bitching session from #1 who launched into a verbal attack about a girl from High School who is allegedly, 'a big fat spotty cow who fancies J (her boyfriend) and she walks around, right, wearing these grips, right, thinking she's sooooo cool, like, yer know? So, I sez to her, like, just shut up and leave J alone, coz he wouldn't fancy a big fat cow like you, right?'...and on and on it went until it just became a bit of a background hum where my only interjection was to bark, 'Language!' when the profanities started being brought in.

My ears pricked up, however, when #1 exclaimed that aforesaid spotty cow 'thinks she's the sex'.
Eh? I asked. How can you think you are 'the sex'? That's poor English. Don't you mean she thinks she is sexy?
I was treated to a look of such withering disdain, which I truly didn't feel I deserved.
Me: So? Tell me what you do mean, then!
#1: She thinks she's 'the sex', whereas I'm the orgasm...

Me: What? What did you just say? What? That's shocking! Don't say that!
#2: What, what's going on, what are you talking about Mummy? What is it?
Me: How can you say that? That's terrible! Don't EVER say that again in front of your sister...
#2: What did she say, Mum? Tell me.
Me: No, I won't. Anyway, I need a fag. Blimey. Where on earth did you learn that?
#1: Everyone says it. Honest!

Off I stomped into the kitchen and lit up, absolutely horrified at the expressions children today come out with, only to be pursued. (N.b. I clear off into the kitchen to smoke in order not to damage my daughters' lungs. So they follow me and do it for themselves...).

#1: Mum, she already knows about orgasms you know!
Me: Do you? No, you don't...How do you know about orgasms? I only found out what an orgasm was two years ago.
#1: Really? You didn't know what an orgasm was until two years ago?
Me: Durrr! 'Course I knew!
#2: Didn't you Mum?
(Groundhog Day again...#2 has an irritating habit of only half listening to conversations which mean that I repeat myself endlessly; it's made even more irritating in that even when I am repeating myself just for her, she will continue to wander off into her own little dream world of puppies, caterpillars, kittens and mud.)

It was at this point, that I happened to change the way I was standing, and crossed my legs as I leaned into the kitchen worktop.

#1: Ahahahahahahaha! Look at the way Mum's standing! Coz we're talking about orgasms. Ahahahaha!
Me: That's got nothing to do with anything! I was just changing the position of my stance, that's all, you cheeky beggar!
#1: Oh yeah! Bit convenient for my liking!
#2: I do know what an orgasm is, you know, Mummy. It's when the sperms squirt out of the man's thing and he goes, Hoouroarghuoagh!

At this point, they both collapsed on the clean kitchen floor (thanks, ICT!), hysterical with laughter. I wasn't sure whether, at this point, I was supposed to uncross my legs, or keep as still as possible, just in case my body language was further misinterpreted.

So, I am stressed. I am harried. And I am getting more and more confounded by the sexual knowledge my daughter possesses.

And to think, when I was her age, the closest I got to sexual knowledge was making plasticine penises for my Action Men, which squashed flat the minute they got jiggy with Sindy...

Happy Hallowe'en...from Agnes