Recently when trying to "search up" as my daughter says, Blogspot, I must have brushed over the computer keys a little too lightly. You've done it, right? I was quite surprised to find that what I had actually searched was the shorter and quite different g spot. Oh my, with Drew looking over my shoulder, I braced myself for the sure to come and completely unavoidable onslought of a ten year old's questions to which I have become so accustomed recently. Our conversations and legendary Q&A sessions in the past six months have covered everything from, "Mommy, did you learn about that swamp thing in SC history?" to "What does it mean when someone says 'screw you?'" In the case of the former I did manage to answer that he may have been referring to the "Swamp Fox," not Swamp Thing, possibly an unintentional morphing of a sci fi movie with today's history lesson. But, in the case of the latter, I simply found myself considering the downside of public school education. With so many kids of so many backgrounds from homes of so many and such varied levels of parental involvement and example, my little boy is growing up much faster than I wanted or intended, even in a school I consider a great one.
Drew's unending questions and endless curiosity do lead me to believe he is very bright. I have told the story of sitting down for Thanksgiving Brunch at the quite elegant Ballantyne Resort with my sister's family and my own. As we placed our drink order, Drew repeatedly interrrupted the process, with his nonstop, "Mommy....But Mommy.....Mommy, I need to ask you something.....Mommy, it's important!" Finally turning to my son to glean the source of his impertinent impatience, I found that Drew's urgent question was, "Mommy, don't you think these napkins are folded to look like the Sydney Opera House?" With deep shame, I admitted that I had absolutely no idea what the Sydney Opera House looked like or whether it resembled this carefully, fancily folded napkin. So, for this highly expectant, possibly high brow offspring of mine, what was going to be my answer to the inevitable question, "Mommy, what is a g spot?" I racked my brain for suitable g words....giraffe... girls (no, steering clear of that altogether)....gorilla....I seemed to be looking to the animal kingdom for my rescue.
Just as I decide on gorilla, here it came, "Mommy." "Yes, Drew," I answered, now armed and ready. "Mommy, where is the Gatorade?" Gatorade. Now why didn't I think of that one?
Drew's unending questions and endless curiosity do lead me to believe he is very bright. I have told the story of sitting down for Thanksgiving Brunch at the quite elegant Ballantyne Resort with my sister's family and my own. As we placed our drink order, Drew repeatedly interrrupted the process, with his nonstop, "Mommy....But Mommy.....Mommy, I need to ask you something.....Mommy, it's important!" Finally turning to my son to glean the source of his impertinent impatience, I found that Drew's urgent question was, "Mommy, don't you think these napkins are folded to look like the Sydney Opera House?" With deep shame, I admitted that I had absolutely no idea what the Sydney Opera House looked like or whether it resembled this carefully, fancily folded napkin. So, for this highly expectant, possibly high brow offspring of mine, what was going to be my answer to the inevitable question, "Mommy, what is a g spot?" I racked my brain for suitable g words....giraffe... girls (no, steering clear of that altogether)....gorilla....I seemed to be looking to the animal kingdom for my rescue.
Just as I decide on gorilla, here it came, "Mommy." "Yes, Drew," I answered, now armed and ready. "Mommy, where is the Gatorade?" Gatorade. Now why didn't I think of that one?
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