Friday, May 18, 2007

Poetry Friday: the word is….

Today’s Poetry Friday is open to interpretation. YOUR interpretation.

Reproduction.

Of a human form.

What’s that make you think of?

In your blog post today, feel free to expound upon human reproduction, in whatever form slips its hand inside your back pocket…story, poem, photo, musing, mess, ménage….

Time is tight this morning, so I will muse briefly.


1. I did play doctor when I was 5 years old, with Randy down the street. I thought it was dumb and pointless.

2. I learned about sex when the neighbor girl and I were looking at a newspaper, and there was an article about a 10-year old girl who’d had a baby. I was about 9 at the time. The neighbor girl, let’s call her Dixie, said, “Oh, I’d be SO embarrassed to be her!” “Why?”, I asked. Then Dixie told me how a man has a ‘tube’ and woman has a ‘hole’ and the man…dadadadada…into the woman’s…dadadada…and nine months later she has a baby. From then on, and still to this day, I sometimes look at couples and think…ew….you really did it with him/her?

3. My mom had two talks about reproduction with me. One was on the day in 4th grade where girls saw ‘The Film’ while the boys got to play kickball in the gym. (I STILL think that was a dirty gyp.) I always got up early, and mom came out to the living room where I was watching Andy Griffith Show, turned the tv off, sat down, and very embarrassingly told me about periods, in a Readers Digest condensed form. She made it sound like trees were growing in my belly. And she really didn’t explain the blood part. Just that it was a miracle. She vastly underestimated my need for information, which I later got from friends. Her second talk about reproduction with me? The night before I left for college, she said, “Remember, if a guy asks you to his room to “see his etchings”, DON’T GO.” That's it. I followed her advice. HAD a boy said that sentence, I would have responded like she told me to. However, the boys I knew in college had no etchings, only kegs of beer, imported record albums, and a taste for innocent farmgirls. Hehhehheh….

10 Comments:

At 4:50 PM, Blogger Irrelephant said...

"Innocent."

I'm still trying to fit that word into my mental impression of you, and failing.

Nope, not yet.

Still no.

Hmm. Maybe I'm holding it upside down?

 
At 6:54 PM, Blogger meno said...

What is it with our moms? Like they had no idea about sex.

I learned it all from books, 'cause you know how realistic that is!

 
At 7:08 PM, Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Our moms were so "skirting" the issues in their June Cleaver mindsets! We're lucky we came to know it atr al. Thank goodness for friends and older sisters! This theme really took me back a long way to a young 12-year-old!

Thanks.

 
At 7:59 PM, Blogger Maggie said...

'trees in your belly' that would have so grossed me out. Eeewwwww. Like would that make that sort of alien thing and burst through at one point? Would the belly get all disfigured and you'd see branches and twigs sticking out? Sorry, my mind so went weird places here.

Aren't you glad you took your mom's advice and only hung out with the guys with the kegs? ha ha.

 
At 10:14 PM, Blogger Nancy Dancehall said...

I think I would have preferred 'trees in the belly' to what I've got! LOL!

 
At 12:15 PM, Blogger patches said...

Trees, huh? I always thought the college years were the don't ask don't tell years. I never saw "the film" was it two stars or three?

 
At 7:40 PM, Blogger Esereth said...

"see his etchings." I hope that has evolved into a great family slang in your house.

 
At 3:56 AM, Blogger Jeremiah said...

I never thought of the etchings line. Of course, when for a while my best line was "Hey, want to see my sculpture of dried Spaghetti-Oh's that I smeared on my wall?", I suppose the brilliance of suggesting an etching viewing was still years away...

 
At 7:02 AM, Anonymous d-man said...

Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.

 
At 2:22 PM, Blogger Diana said...

I don't thing my mom had a talk with me at all. I bet we saw the same movie, but mine was in the 5th grade. They then handed us little plastic baggies with some sample hygeine things, including a few pads and deoderant. Everything I knew until high school was from my 3rd grade friend, Mimi. She was surprisingly accurate and I was horrified for months, especially when seeing couples with babies.

 

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