“The Sex Museum”

OMG. Dear Daughter went to the Kansas Learning Center for Health today in Halstead. She is traumatized and I have never been so entertained by trauma in my life (except for an episode of Sister Wives). She’s been dreading this trip since the permission slip was sent home including a complete list of vocabulary words like “nocturnal emission”,  “testicles”, “menstruation” and of course all the proper terms for genitalia (oodi and wacker were not on the list much to her chagrin). Her agenda for school had this written in it for today…

Of course, we’ve already had “The Talk” with her (and she actually DOES know the correct terms for body parts already, we just prefer the silly ones). We had already explained 99.9% of what the list included. A brief lesson on “nocturnal emission” had to be given once she’d read the vocab list and was inaccurately interpreted as, “Nocturnal Ejection. That’s when wackers come alive at night. It’s basically a period for boys.” Wow. Total FAIL in our explanation.

This morning while she lamented about the trip, the song that ran constantly through my head was “Reproduction”  from the Grease II soundtrack and it took all my strength from the baby Jesus not to just belt out that completely inappropriate tune while getting ready for work. But while talking with your parents (albeit the goofiest parents that ever lived) is bad enough, experiencing the talk with your peers was enough to render her mute for the first part of the evening. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But she is MY daughter so within an hour or so she was singing like a canary. And what poured out of her over the night was pure comedy gold. Her first observation, “Testicles contain sperm.” “Um, yeah,” I replied, “I thought they were balls. Solid balls. And that’s why they called them nuts.” I nearly peed my pants.

A friend of hers was handed “Nocturnal emission” for a term and said, “What’s THIS?” Elizabeth said, “Trust me. You do NOT want to know.” Of course, this was when she still had her twisty explanation about crazed, self-activating penises. Now that I think of it, she wasn’t totally incorrect, but that’s not the point.

Later we had been watching a recorded Christmas show (she needed to scrub her brain) and when it was over and switched back to live TV, a Cialis commercial began to immediately inform us that if we had an erection lasting over 4 hours to seek medical help. “ERECTION???!!!??? she screamed, “Will it ever end???” I wonder if a belly laugh has ever lasted over 4 hours?

For dinner I had cooked a batch of hot dogs and she had a pot pie. She thought she wanted a hot dog, but after pulling it up with tongs out of the pot of water, she turned white as a sheet and said, “You know, maybe hot dogs aren’t for me tonight.” I’m glad she didn’t have to perform the Heimlich maneuver on me.

She talked a lot about the robot lady at the museum she swore was named “Velveeta” (apparently it was actually Valeda). This robot’s anatomy would light up when she spoke about each body part and what it did. She is never eating cheese dip again.

I’m sure we will get more information out of her over the weekend. But for now, she’s tired of penises and vaginas and just wants to go back to the time when she didn’t know what “nocturnal emission” was. I see the entire situation as a win win. She is better educated about sexual health and anatomy and I got great material for my blog.


One thought on ““The Sex Museum”

  1. Cat Poland says:

    Oh my gosh! And now, I can’t help but think of the whole “sex before marriage” conversation we had many years ago in the GS office! Ha! Love you and your daughter and your sense of humor.

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