Yesterday Big Kid asked if he could borrow my laptop and I told him that he could and that it was in my room on the bed.
I walked into the room about 20 minutes later and he asked if he could turn the television channel.
"Sure. The remote is on the nightstand."
"I was just wantin' to change it because they're talking about the," drops his voice to a whisper, "s-x word."
"Oh." I said, wishing Tyra Banks could refrain from talking about the s-word at 3 in the afternoon.
(I wasn't watching Tyra, by the way, I was watching whatever was on before that. I feel the need to clarify that because I don't watch crap like the Tyra Banks show. I watch other crap.)
"Yeah, go ahead and watch whatever you want."
"Yeah, you know, they're talkin' about the s-x word and pregnancy here on this show."
"Mmmm. Yep. Definitely let's change it."
"'bout bein' pregnant and havin' the s-x word. You know?"
"Yeah, you can turn it now."
"I bet that's uncomfortable...you know, doin' the s-x during pregnancy."
(Big Kid knows NOTHING about the mechanics of doin' the s-x, for the record.)
"Only about half as uncomfortable as this conversation. LET'S CHANGE IT NOW."
So, thank you Tyra Banks for opening that line of conversation. It was one of the most horrifying discussions of my parenting career so far and a real mother/son moment that I'm sure we'll both remember for an unfortunately long time.