I've been a proponent of honest and clear communication when it comes to talking to my children about the birds and the bees, much to their consternation. I've used the anatomically correct words for their private parts since they were babies and was surprised when my sister heard me once and gasped.
"I can't believe you just said that!"
"What do you call it?" I asked. She told me and I guffawed in superiority. That is until I visited her in Arizona with my other sisters and she took us to eat at Pei Wei, a Chinese place and I giggled like a 10 year old boy when I kept mispronouncing the restaurant name. She threatened to drive away without me if I didn't stop it.
Still, I was convinced of my forward thinking until tonight when my baby, my last little child, asked me to explain to him how kissing makes babies. I choked. I told him to talk to his dad. I "um-ed" and "er-ed." He would not be deterred. So I punted.
"Well, the dad and mom start kissing and then the dad gives the mom something special." I paused to think then slowly continued. "He gives her Love. Yeah. Love. And then it turns into a baby." Then I held my breath and waited.
"Wow! That's so cool!"
"Yeah," I breathed in relief, "It is cool."
I've come a long way, Baby.