Put on the Spot
'What does it mean to have a w**k?' asks the ten-year-old carryingly as we enter a peaceful country tea room.
'It means to have a walk,' says my brother quickly. Our mother, reared in wartime Bristol when provincial slang was out of synch with modern pleasures, routinely suggests a nice little w**k after lunch.
'We can't let her think that,' I hiss, fearing the implications of our lengthy morning walks to school.
We both turn to the Vicar who is masticating placidly on a scone.
'It means,' he says, 'to, um, touch yourself...'
'We can't let her think that either,' I say, mindful of the ten-year-old's obsessive fiddling with her hair.
Luckily I recall a piece of intelligence passed on by a parishioner during casual conversation in the vicarage garden.
'We all,' I repeat doubtfully, 'have a 'happy spot'...'
'In our house it's the sofa,' says my brother.
The ten-year-old is looking bewildered. Worse, her young brother has left off his perusal of the cake stands and appears pruriently agog. I flounder. Occupants of the surrounding tables are sipping their tea in disconcerting silence and I'm sure the flagstoned floor is causing us to echo. Yet I am conscious of my resolve to answer all biological enquiries with factual frankness.
The ten-year-old is poised to probe further and just in time I remember the killer response that I always deploy in sticky situations: 'Wait till we get home,' I tell her, 'then Dad will explain it!'
How would you have enlightened your young daughter and an audience of elderly strangers?
'It means to have a walk,' says my brother quickly. Our mother, reared in wartime Bristol when provincial slang was out of synch with modern pleasures, routinely suggests a nice little w**k after lunch.
'We can't let her think that,' I hiss, fearing the implications of our lengthy morning walks to school.
We both turn to the Vicar who is masticating placidly on a scone.
'It means,' he says, 'to, um, touch yourself...'
'We can't let her think that either,' I say, mindful of the ten-year-old's obsessive fiddling with her hair.
Luckily I recall a piece of intelligence passed on by a parishioner during casual conversation in the vicarage garden.
'We all,' I repeat doubtfully, 'have a 'happy spot'...'
'In our house it's the sofa,' says my brother.
The ten-year-old is looking bewildered. Worse, her young brother has left off his perusal of the cake stands and appears pruriently agog. I flounder. Occupants of the surrounding tables are sipping their tea in disconcerting silence and I'm sure the flagstoned floor is causing us to echo. Yet I am conscious of my resolve to answer all biological enquiries with factual frankness.
The ten-year-old is poised to probe further and just in time I remember the killer response that I always deploy in sticky situations: 'Wait till we get home,' I tell her, 'then Dad will explain it!'
How would you have enlightened your young daughter and an audience of elderly strangers?
Oh goodness, I've got all this to come! I've noted your 'killer response' and will keep it handy for when we get into those kinds of sticky situations!
ReplyDeleteIt works every time!
DeleteIn this context, you might enjoy this video. I suggest watching the first ten seconds or so, then skip to 3.50.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=6KeG_i8CWE8&list=UUEZweGVXrU-Lm4NmEAD_Dlw
I will apply myself to it just as soon as I've got my comfy slippers on.
DeleteRofl! Oh thank you for having older children than me. I can learn everything I need to cope here. And if not at least I'll know what NOT to do ;)
ReplyDeleteWho's Rofl? Any time you need factual advice, dear, you know where to turn!
DeleteSurpassed yourself yet again...this really did make me laugh. Probably because I can relate (we had a similar conversation involving wet dreams). Thank you!
ReplyDeleteNo thank you! But you've alarmed me now with the prospect of Things to Come!
DeleteOh my. A tough one and with an audience! I can't really help as we are still only at the stage where Bibs peers into Mr B's tummy button and asks if there is a baby in there (she keeps a regular check on my tummy).
ReplyDeleteWhat I want to know is how Dad did actually tackle it when you got home. Or had the moment/danger passed?
I think we need a blog post written by the Vicar. He's a somewhat shadowy figure, lurking in the background of your blog. Bring him out! Yes. What exactly DID he say when you all got home?
DeleteOut the Vicar!
Luckily my brother took the kids straight off from this cafe to a five-day holiday club 100 miles away so the moment gently passed. One day the Vicar might let me post some of his sermons...
DeleteLordy! I think you did the right thing.... diverting the response until later. Children's sense of timing is just impeccable - your brother's response had me howling (not as a wolf but with laughter)... 'In our house it's the sofa'.... genius! Hope you are enjoying your summer! X.
ReplyDeleteA real innocent, my brother!!
DeleteOh my goodness, we've always been truthful and honest when asked a question by our kids - this one would have me struggling for an explanation though!
ReplyDeleteYes, she's still not much the wiser for the Vicar seems to have forgotten to raise the issue again.
DeleteI let my husband do all the explain, which he does with true honesty, while I bite my tongue trying not to laugh.
ReplyDeleteIt's definitely a job requiring male sensitivities!
DeleteAh, what a shame you didn't take the opportunity to regale the occupants of the tea rooms with a frank and factual introduction to the pleasures of the happy spot. Just think. You could have introduced much-needed colour and variety into their day, given them something to talk about later, perhaps even helped save a stale marriage or two. I'm more than a little disappointed to be honest ... x
ReplyDeleteI take your point, darlin', but what would I know about it?!
DeleteThey do pick good times to ask these questions don't they? Really not looking forward to dealing with these sort of things.
ReplyDeleteNo, thy spring upon you unawares!
DeleteAaagh! I'm squirming for you! Hilarious post. No advice I'm afraid, I think you dealt with it very well and I will remember this technique if my 9 and 7yo ever ask awkward questions!
ReplyDeletePassing the buck is always a good solution.
DeleteOh my goodness.
ReplyDeleteLike The Fool I am not looking forward to this stage at all but it seems as though you handled it well. With hindsight I think that was often the tactic my own Mother used to deflect difficult questions!
My mother was always far more eager to communicate on these themes than I was to listen, hence, probably my inadequacies now!
Delete