Speaking of sex......

Ronni said:
wow. You started young Gary! And were these sisters “older women?” Curious minds.....:cool:
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No, they were in their early teens
….with the experience and minds of aged worn out hookers

Sometimes I wonder whatever happened to ‘em
Consider looking them up
Then, settle back into being content with those very early memories

I wrote about ‘em in a ‘vivid memories’ thread of mine

Oh, hell, here it is (damn near a book, or at least chapter) and rather involved with other topics, events;

IKE

The Eisner’s place was at the bottom of the hill.
Ike was the runt of our little mob. Thus he did some suffering….nature’s process of natural selection.
The Eisners were a tidy bunch. Mrs Eisner kept Ike in new clothes. He always looked like he’d just stepped outta the Wards catalogue.
There was no man around the house.
Mrs Eisner was quite fetching, a bit thin, but quite fetching indeed.
She kept herself up, and I gotta hand it to her, maintained things pretty darn well.
Remarkably, those were the days before mandated child support.

However, they all seemed to be missing a screw to their well oiled machine.
Ike’s sisters were prime examples.
Seems like they were about 13 and 15 and had been around, having the minds of 47 year old hookers.
Ike was their experimentation lab.
Andy was practice.
I was a curiosity.
Bart was their personal ‘Lennie Small’.
Eddie stayed home.
Brad damn near lived at the Eisner’s place…Brad liked to narrate his experiences…I took notes.

Ike was pretty much our gofer.
One summer day we were just sittin’ behind Andy’s place, considering tossing Ike down the hill again, when Andy developed the brilliant idea of gathering up some junk and setting it all on the blind corner of the paved road below.

A broken bat, a rusted wagon, some leaf springs and other junk, in a wash tub, set smack dab in the road, by Ike.
‘Ike won’t get in trouble as much as we will, since they already know us (the fire cracker incident, the beehive fiasco, and a few other things that enabled us to see the inside of the police station).

First car.
The guy just stopped, took the wagon, and kicked the tub off the road.
Ike set it back out.

Second car.
An ol’ gal got out, looked up the hill, right into the brush we were hiding in and yammered in her high pitched ol’ lady voice ‘I see you boys. I’m going to turn you in. Get down here right now and clean this up.’
Then she sped off, leaving the tub in the middle of the road.

It began to dawn on us that maybe this wasn’t one of our brightest of ideas when car number three, an ol’ pickup, came whippin’ by. Only he didn’t stop. Not right away anyway. Seems the handle of the wash tub hooked onto the undercarriage of his truck, and made quite a gawdawful racket for about a hundred yards, just clangin’ and bangin’ down the road.
I think the ol’ guy thought he’d lost his differential, ‘cause he seemed quite relieved to find that ol’ tub…as he unhooked it, threw it into the truck and sped off.
Another inventive event for us to laugh our asses off, and celebrate by tossing Ike down the hill.


One rainy fall day Bart and I were goofing around with the mud bank at the bottom of the road.
Bart had these huge, man sized high top leather boot shoes, of which he was quite proud of being able to stand in a mud puddle and not get his gargantuan feet wet.
‘See that? M-M-M-M-Mink oil.’
‘Huh.’

Andy came out and suggested we build a dam, and make a lake. Eddie, Ike, and Brad appeared.
Soon we had six shovels and two wheel barrows employed.
We learned about the dos and don’ts of dam building in short order.
A sheet of ply would be our water gate.
The lake got to be about three and a half feet deep once we built the side gates for overflow.
The red clay bank we were excavating developed a huge gap in it.
Next, the dazzling idea of flooding the road when cars came.

CAR!!!

Andy and Bart lifted the sheet of ply. There was a rush of muddy water.
Something the dimension of a mid-sized dog went whooshing onto the road.

It was Ike!!

The car came close, r-e-a-l close to Ike’s head.
The driver didn’t see a thing, just kept goin’.
Andy and I picked up little Ike, squeezed out his shirt and cap, and commenced to shake him, scolding him for being on the wrong side of the dam at such a critical moment.
He loved the attention, smiling his happy dog Ike smile, then giggling his little Ike [censored] off.

In spite of everything we and his sisters put him through, he maintained a pretty happy heart, and kept a kind of innocence about him.
He was beyond likable.
None of us would say it, but we all loved the little guy.
And even though he was our projectile alotta times, if anyone out of our realm gave him grief, we'd all take turns beatin' the [censored] outta that person.....no matter how big she was.

Years later, I heard he’d become a structural engineer.
I’d like to think we had an influence on him that rainy fall day.

Last I heard, he was in Honduras, improving some villages in the outback, rerouting waters of floodplains, and teaching building techniques, but that was long ago now.
His frustration was the unions wouldn’t let him get his hands dirty with anything more than a pencil.



The lad had a remarkable resilience about him in mind and spirit. I’d like to think he’s doin’ well……hell, I may search him out on face book or something, since a lot of folk have died off, and the web is so damn handy these days….’course then I’d have to join face book….last time I did that, I learned I had more than 10,000 friends I didn’t even know. ‘sides, I’m not sure of his first name….but then, right now I’m not sure of my own first name…..


Naw, I’d rather just think my thoughts. Gettin’ tired of learnin’ how folks are ending up….but then learning of yer enemies taking a dirt nap is rather uplifting at times.




sorry, you asked


...and thankfully most everone has that scroll feature
 
Snowbound said:
My mother didn't tell me what to expect as I entered into my adolescence, so when I got my first period (which she referred to as my "friend") I thought I was dying! She also never discussed sex with me, other than to say, "you need to save yourself for marriage." Thankfully we had a hygiene class in high school, so I did learn the mechanics of men and women, and was happy to find out that I couldn't get pregnant by kissing a boy.
When I had my son, I was completely open and honest with him, so when he asked me, at the tender age of eight how babies got into their mothers bellies, I told him in graphic detail, and then asked that he refrain from testing this knowledge out until he was at least 18.
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I had the same experience. When I had my first period I was horrified and convinced something terrible was happening. I finally worked up the courage to tell my mother and she basically said it happens to all girls and here's the stuff to deal with it. Later on in a PE class I learned more about why it was happening and so on.

Nobody in my family ever discussed sex at all, and I wouldn't have dared to ask.
 

A cute kid trying to understand where babies come from:

This convo was between my daughter and me when I was about 25 weeks pregnant with her baby sister.
3yo: Mama, where do babies come out of?
Me: They come out of mommy’s belly. (Patting myself on the back because I’ve dodged a bullet.)
3yo: No, I mean, HOW do they get OUT of your belly?
Me: ...Well, some mommies have to have a little cut in their belly and the baby comes out of mommy’s belly AND the other way is that babies come out between the mommy’s legs.
3yo: EEEEEEWWWW! They come out of your ******?!!
Fast forward three days and my friend tells me this story about a conversation my daughter had with her son at a playdate.
3yo: My mom is going to have a baby soon. Do you know where the babies come out of?
Friend: No. Do you?
3yo: Yep! They come out of ******s.
Friend: You gotta be kidding me, you’re telling me babies come from CHINA?!!! —Alexis L.
 
My parents were both prudes, did not believe in talking about sex. My mother just told me if I let a boy ''touch me'' I would get pregnant. You can imagine gullible me trying not to get touched by boys in crowded school hallways. When I asked her questions, she merely said that the more I knew the more I would be tempted to do it (I believe the opposite, I told my daughter the facts of life around 9 since that's when girls COULD start menstruating). I learned about sex from a book a friend lent me when I was 14 and was still a virgin at 19 when I got married. A friend told my daughter that you can only get pregnant when you're having your period and my daughter set her straight. Good parents should consider it their DUTY to inform their children before they get wrong info from their peers, yet many who fail to do so demand that schools do not teach them.
 
Butterfly said:
When I had my first period I was horrified and convinced something terrible was happening. I finally worked up the courage to tell my mother and she basically said it happens to all girls and here's the stuff to deal with it.
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When I started bleeding I told my mother and ALL she said was, "Don't worry, it will happen every month" and she told me how to use ''the rag" (they had no pads back then). She would not tell me why. I had a friend four years younger who was living in Italy when it happened to her. She was convinced that she was dying but would not tell her mother so as not to worry her. Her mother finally found out and told her the same things my mother told me. So much wasted panics and worries!
 
My grandmother said that she asked her mother what "pregnant" meant and her mother slapped her and said that if she wanted to talk "alley talk" she should go out in the alley and do it.

My mother said that her grandmother wrote a letter to my mother's mom and said, "Well, your sister is wearing a different sort of dress these days!" which was about as close as she could come to announcing a pregnancy.

My girlfriend Sheila explained sex to me and said that my parents "did it". I told her she was a liar because MY parents wouldn't have done something like THAT! She pointed out that there were too many kids at my house for my parents not to have done it at least six times. I still don't think my parents did it.....

I remember my mother giving me some sort of "birds and bees talk" but it didn't make much more sense than what Sheila told me, so I didn't pay much attention to it.

We got the annual "sex talk" in gym class sophomore year. The boys got their talk from the football coach and we got ours from the female gym teacher. She told us that it was up to us girls to "control things" because our sex organs were inside us where we couldn't see them and think about them but the boys had theirs "out there" and it made them think about sex all the time. I can remember for days afterwards being so embarrassed I could hardly look a boy in the eye, "knowing" that he was thinking about nothing but sex. It was rather egotistical for me to think any boy in that school was thinking about sex with ME, though.

I had "the talk" with my daughter at about nine. She wasn't the slightest bit grossed out or particularly interested. It was just "oh, that's interesting". When she got married, she had a five-year-plan that she was going to finish her degree, etc., before she had a baby. About 18 months later, she called me and said "MOM, I'M PREGNANT! HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED???" I reminded her that we had had that talk several years earlier about "how this happened". She wasn't amused. Not at all.

I had "the talk" with my granddaughter at about 10 years old. She stopped me and said, "Really, Meemaw, do you think I'm going to do anything to jeopardize my making the Olympic triathlon team?" and that was that.

My great-granddaughter is three now. Maybe in about 6 or 7 years, I'll be having "the talk" with her.
 
jujube said:
I had "the talk" with my granddaughter at about 10 years old. She stopped me and said, "Really, Meemaw, do you think I'm going to do anything to jeopardize my making the Olympic triathlon team?" and that was that.
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:lol: That is too funny!!! And very smart!

I have to say, it saddens me that so many of us had horrible scares and thought we were ill, or dying, or something was horribly wrong with us, when we started our periods. I mean, what a terrible thing to put a kid through! :(

I made sure my own daughter was very well informed long before she started. She's the youngest of 5 kids, all boys except her. I remember when she started, she asked me to tell her brothers that she didn't want them making jokes and being rude about it. I dutifully informed them. They were really good about it. For all the ribbing she got from them, being the only girl, and the youngest, they were all very sensitive to this, and did a good job.
 
A young boy comes homes and asks his mother, "Mom, what is sex?"

Mom knew that this moment was going to come eventually and had prepared for it. She said, "Well, let's sit down in the living room and we'll talk about it and I'll give you a book to read about it, too."

After they had had their "talk", she asked him if he had any questions.

"Yeah," he says, pulling his Little League application from his back pocket. "How am I supposed to get all that into this little box on the application?"
 
fmdog44 said:
Never got the sex talk. All I heard was if I played with myself I'll go blind!!
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My mother told me that if I didn't stop my thing would turn black and fall off. But that didn't stop me. Because it wasn't the first time she had lied to me. When I was about 7 she tried to get me to eat cauliflower by telling me it was mashed potatoes.

 
fmdog44 said:
A woman's period as called "the curse" by some when I was a kid. Go figure.
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It is a CURSE! Imagine bleeding 4-6 days EVERY month for decades with belly cramps (like having food poisoning) and worrying about possible embarrassment from bloody stains. I remember a joke I read, "How can women bleed one week every month and still be ALIVE!"
 
Neither of my parents ever had the talk with me. I found a lot out, but was quite confused about it, as a kid. I learned sex from my peers and those a bit older and some a lot older. At times I have been very open about it but find lately I don't talk much about it. Maybe because I'm out of the loop..who knows.
 
No talk from my parents as pretty much everything was learned between my teenage peers growing up. I have an older brother who was very protective of me back then and he wouldn't be talking with his little sister like that either. As for my son by the time he was getting to that age my Ex Husband and I were starting to have difficulties and divorced when he was 15 so it would have been left up to me to give him the talk and I really didn't. I guess I did OK because he ended up a pretty good kid.
 
I know I wanted to say something else about sex - and I think I wrote it down but just noticed there's no lead in me pencil!:indecisiveness:
 
I can remember my father calling me into the kitchen, telling me to sit down. I assumed, being about 10 years old, I was going to get heck for something I had done.

My mind was turning over trying to remember what I had broken, chores not done or the fish in the bathtub...It was none of those. It was a talk, as he put it, about the birds and bees.....

Why, I thought, would my father want to talk about birds let alone bees and what did one have to do with the other? I knew birds flew...Well, maybe not chickens....And bees produced honey.....

Anyway, he started the talk off about boys being different then girls....Well, big surprise. I knew that. Girls wore skirts and boys wore pants. and their bicycles were different....Which reminded me...

"Dad?"

"Yea?"

"Why do girls have bikes that are different then boys bikes?"

A look came over my father's face that I had never seen before. Pure bafflement. He humphed some and tried to explain to me as to why there was a difference. After an explanation which, to me made no sense, he continued on with this serious talk.....At the end of it I found out girls were different then boys, girls were weaker then boys, girls needed boys to protect them and , in spite of what my grandmother told me, I was not delivered by a huge stork.

"Well, I asked, " Gram said I was delivered by a huge stork. If that isn't true then where did I come from?"

My father just stared at me. He then said that was a talk we can have another time. He stood up, went to the ice box and got a beer. I assumed that the talk was over.....

The next day, I went to see my gram and my aunt Irene who was very worldly., that's what my gram said...She had more boyfriends then the bank had pennies.....And I told my aunt Irene about the talk my father had with me....She started to laugh, sat me down and really explained everything....I was amazed! She also told me NOT to put into practice what I now knew until I turned into a teen and then check back with her....Her advise was golden....

And THAT'S how I learned about the birds and bees....

　
 
moosehead said:
I can remember my father calling me into the kitchen, telling me to sit down. I assumed, being about 10 years old, I was going to get heck for something I had done.

My mind was turning over trying to remember what I had broken, chores not done or the fish in the bathtub...It was none of those. It was a talk, as he put it, about the birds and bees.....

Why, I thought, would my father want to talk about birds let alone bees and what did one have to do with the other? I knew birds flew...Well, maybe not chickens....And bees produced honey.....

Anyway, he started the talk off about boys being different then girls....Well, big surprise. I knew that. Girls wore skirts and boys wore pants. and their bicycles were different....Which reminded me...

"Dad?"

"Yea?"

"Why do girls have bikes that are different then boys bikes?"

A look came over my father's face that I had never seen before. Pure bafflement. He humphed some and tried to explain to me as to why there was a difference. After an explanation which, to me made no sense, he continued on with this serious talk.....At the end of it I found out girls were different then boys, girls were weaker then boys, girls needed boys to protect them and , in spite of what my grandmother told me, I was not delivered by a huge stork.

"Well, I asked, " Gram said I was delivered by a huge stork. If that isn't true then where did I come from?"

My father just stared at me. He then said that was a talk we can have another time. He stood up, went to the ice box and got a beer. I assumed that the talk was over.....

The next day, I went to see my gram and my aunt Irene who was very worldly., that's what my gram said...She had more boyfriends then the bank had pennies.....And I told my aunt Irene about the talk my father had with me....She started to laugh, sat me down and really explained everything....I was amazed! She also told me NOT to put into practice what I now knew until I turned into a teen and then check back with her....Her advise was golden....

And THAT'S how I learned about the birds and bees.... 　
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Count your lucky stars you had a worldly aunt named Irene. She was very wise. How is she doing these days, did she find a special guy? I hope so, I like people like her, practical and honest.
 
Never had a "talk" and never garnered any information from my folks. Just stumbled along picking up bits and pieces from my contemporaries, later finding some of it was true and some not. Fortunately, when I was 18, I met my first serious girlfriend. She'd just turned 17 was a bit more worldly than I. She took me by the hand and explained the mysteries of life. :D We later married and had 4 kids and I was still trying to fathom out how these things were happening? Her explanations must have worked because here we are today, 66 years later and I think she's still doing most of the explaining and I'm still listening, although at this age, the topic of sex is pretty much behind us.
 
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