Sex Ed By Momma

By Clotilde Aucoin

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When my sister and I were in our formative years, our mother worked as an OB/GYN nurse. Her primary mission in life was to teach us everything possible about the dangers of sex, and she’d let loose with her warnings no matter the time and place. We could be strolling down the aisle of the Piggly Wiggly and she’d yell out, “Don’t let boys get to know you by the Braille system!”

“Momma, please! Everyone can hear you,” I pleaded.

“I don’t care. Girls need to hear this stuff!” she’d holler.

Or we could be quietly driving along and momma would blurt out, “Don’t have peanut butter legs!”

“Huh?” I asked.

“You know, they spread easily,” she replied.

“Mother!” we screamed, horrified.

“You girls need to listen. Boys are just hormones with feet; they cannot control themselves.” We stared blankly, pretending not to hear, and she’d say, “You can ask me anything. Go ahead, ask.”

My sister spoke up. “Can we listen to the radio?” she asked.

“I give up,” momma said. Then, she put a CD in the player and hit “play.” I looked at her with a confused expression, and she said, “You’ll like it; it’s new.”

Out of the speakers came an ominous voice, “Genital Warts and You. Genital warts are the most hidden of the sexually transmitted diseases. Cauliflower-like formations, they…”

“Momma!” my sister and I yelled. “Turn it off! It’s gross!”

However, the hardcore training really started when I was ready to go on my first date. Momma began the drill sequence by asking, “What if he goes for the sneaky arm-around-the-waist booty touch, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’ll say ‘no,’” I replied.

“I can’t hear you,” she said.

“No!” I yelled.

“Better,” she said. “And if he tries to cop a feel?”

“NO!” I shrieked.

“Excellent,” she said, “I think you’re ready for your date. Call me if he goes insane.”

All we did was go to the movies and grab a bite to eat, but every time he moved even a millimeter in my direction, I let out with a resounding “No!” By the end of the evening, I’d almost lost my voice, but I saved just enough for the big finish. When he walked me to the door and leaned in for a kiss, I screamed out a “NO!” that probably tripped a bunch of earthquake sensors.

Behind the door, I could hear momma applauding. “You got it, girl,” she said.

Her work here was done.

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