So next week, my husband is accompanying my son to a talk at his all-boys school. (My son's all-boys school, that is, not my husband's. My husband is all grown up and goes to work now.)
The talk they are attending is about penises.
Okay, so it's not just about penises. It's about breasts and vaginas too. In fact, it is about all things related to private parts. It is called "Preparing For Puberty", and is presented by specialist sex educators.
And I've decided to allocate this one to my husband.
Now, you know me. I love talking about penises and breasts and vaginas. It's right up my alley (so to speak). But there's something about this talk that really bothers me; one thing I cannot deal with in front of a crowd of pre-pubescent boys.
Oh! I can barely even type the phrase. Of course, there's nothing wrong with the words themselves. 'Wet' makes me think of rain, and 'dreams' makes me think of having forgotten to study for a big test (which is the scenario usually played out in mine). But put them together and you get something very different. Something - to me, anyway - kind of scary.
You see, I grew up with one sister and no brothers. I didn't have to deal with any of those kind of... things. I read about wet dreams in that 1970s bible of sex education "What's Happening To Me", but as I knew the part about wet dreams wouldn't actually Happen To Me, I didn't think much about it. And for some reason, in all my years of marriage, it has never come up in a discussion with my husband (er... again... so to speak).
So now is the first time I'm really thinking about them. And they sound very unsettling. I'm sure wet dreams must be awkward for boys; you know.... strange and potentially embarrassing. But jeez, they're certainly better than what pubescent girls can look forward to. I can't speak for every female, but I know I'd much rather swap my cramps and bleeding each month for FREE ORGASMS IN MY SLEEP A COUPLE OF TIMES A WEEK!!!!
So with that in mind, I'm sending hubby and son off to the talk next week. I shall stay at home with my two totally non-pre-pubescent girls, and think lovely thoughts about flowers and moonbeams.
I hope they have a good time, and that all questions related to that particular issue are discussed in the car on the way home.
And I shall pretend puberty, and all it entails, is still a decade or two away.