Navigating the Talk About Sex with My Son Thanks to ‘Futurama’

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“Mom, what’s prawnstitution?”

And just like that, our first real chat about sex kicked off, thanks to an episode of Futurama. My son, who was 10 at the time, had always dodged detailed discussions about sex. I still remember when he asked my partner why Noah took two of every animal on the ark. When he found out it was to help keep the species going, he shut down the convo with, “I really don’t want to know anything more about this…”

But here we were, sharing a moment in front of the TV—where all the best bonding happens—and I knew I had to take advantage of this opportunity. After all, who knows what they teach in health class nowadays? I wanted to be proactive.

“Well, a prawn is a large shrimp, and prostitution is when people—mostly women, but not always—have sex for money, not because they care about the person.”

He thought about this for a moment, and I encouraged him to ask me anything else he was curious about regarding sex.

“Well … um, let’s say ‘Tom’—no real friend of his has that name—said something wild. He said that a penis gets really big and then goes INSIDE a vagina.”

Seems like Tom knows what he’s talking about! (And if his parents are reading this, they won’t catch on to my clever pseudonym.) I confirmed that Tom was indeed right about the penis and vagina.

“Really!” he exclaimed, sounding like someone just revealed a shocking secret about a not-so-bright acquaintance winning a Nobel Prize.

He had more questions. I know the whole birds and bees talk is traditionally a dad-to-son and mom-to-daughter thing, but there was no way I was running around looking for my partner. We were in the groove of a genuine moment, so I decided to keep the conversation rolling.

I wanted to clear up any confusion he had, especially since Tom was now the one providing this crucial, life-defining info. I assured him that it’s totally normal to think about sex a lot, and also normal not to think about it at all. You can feel confused, fascinated, or even turned off by it—all of it is typical at ten. I also touched upon those surprise physical reactions boys can have, whether it’s triggered by a cute girl on TV, a book, or sometimes, nothing at all. And yes, dreams about it are completely normal too.

“Well, THAT’s a relief,” he said, looking cheerful but avoiding eye contact. We were still glued to Futurama, where Zoidberg was making his usual scuttling appearances. A few minutes passed before he asked, “So how often do people have sex?”

Great question! A big one! I told him it varies from person to person, sidestepping the complexities of long-term relationships and initial infatuations filled with non-stop sex. I tried to give him an answer he could grasp.

“So… do you and Dad have sex?”

“Um, yes. Yes we do.”

“How often?”

I could have easily dropped a “none of your business” response, because while I’m fine discussing sex in general, sharing my personal sex life with my child is a stretch.

“Well, um. Pretty often. You know, sometimes.”

“Like… when was the last time?”

Oh boy! But you know what? He wasn’t prying for details; he was searching for context. I remembered when my mom talked to me about periods and all I wanted to know was about the flow. Was it like a leaky faucet? A waterfall? A leg wound? I needed those details to understand the world.

“Um, a couple of days ago.”

“Really!” Same tone again. Acknowledgment of something unexpected.

I turned the conversation back to him, and we sat quietly for a moment.

“You know, you can always talk to Dad about this stuff, too.”

“I think I’m comfortable talking to you.”

“Okay.”

“Can we keep watching Futurama now?”

“Sure.”

And that was it—the Big Talk about the birds and the bees.

When I was a kid in the ’70s, there was this controversial book called Show Me, which was supposed to educate kids about sex but instead horrified my siblings and me with its graphic content. Banned in many places as child pornography, it took sex education to a really uncomfortable place. I remember nervously asking my mom when I’d have to have sex, and she reassuringly stated it wouldn’t be until I really wanted to. “Good!” I said. “Then I’m never going to.” How times have changed.

Now, I aim to strike that delicate balance between making my kids aware that sex is a normal and wonderful part of life, while also ensuring they know it’s not something they have to worry about just yet. But I still worry. Are they asking others? Will they need therapy because their curiosity about sex is sparked by Futurama? I guess we’re just figuring it out as we go.

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In summary, navigating the conversation about sex with kids can be awkward but necessary. Using pop culture references can help broach the subject, and it’s essential to create an open dialogue so they feel comfortable asking questions.