I was what you would call a precocious child, and (I am sure this will come as no surprise) an avid reader. I would almost always spend whatever money I had on books.While I was not allowed to go to the mall alone, my parents would take me into the Waldenbooks and let me browse by myself. So, when I needed a little information about where babies came from, what better way than to seek out a book and read it for myself.
Within minutes of entering the bookstore, I located a book, complete with anatomically correct cartoons, that explained the knitty gritty of getting busy. I read as much as I could, as quickly as I could, to insure my parents did not see what I was doing. I stored all that info away for later use. And by later, I mean dinner that night, where I, in my 7 year old glory, informed my parents that babies were made by having sex, and having sex was like jumping rope, in that you could not do it all day because you would get too tired. I had no shame.
That would change a few years later. I was an early bloomer, and completely self conscious that I had to wear bras, real bras, not training bras, by 5th grade. This was the grade in which the boys and girls were separated for 2 days, and educated on puberty. I decided to tell the nurse in charge of the educational program that my mom did not allow me to participate, so, I got to go work on art projects while everyone went through day one of learning about their blossoming womanhood. The school must have checked with my mom, though, because they found out my story was bogus, and the second day I was submitted to pure torture, which concluded by the nurse giving us all packs of tampons.
My poor parents, I must have had the scratching their heads over the years. Do any of you have funny stories of either giving, or getting, "the talk"?