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The horribly embarrassing memory of my father giving me "the talk": A thread
I was in 4th grade when my dad gave me the sex talk.
He took me down to our basement, which is a weird setting for this story, but whatever.
He took me down to our basement, which is a weird setting for this story, but whatever.
My dad was a hyper religious man at the time, so he was very sterile in his description. He also told me that he had had a vasectomy. So he was sterile in more ways than one.
He was very purposeful as he told me about the in’s and out’s of sex. Pun intended.
He described everything very anatomically, and at the end, he did something that I think every dad should do when they give their kids the talk. He said, “Do you have any questions?” And he let me know that I could ask about anything I wanted.
He let me know that this was a safe space. He said I could ask about anything I’d heard at school. Anything that seemed like it might be a bad word. Totally fine. No judgement in the sex basement.
But I was in 4th grade, so kids had started talking about sex recently, but they still didn’t really understand it.
So, a few weeks before getting the talk, I was at school and this kid Anthony and his friends were on the playground talking when one of Anthony’s friends says, “Anthony has got this girl that he’s going to hang out with tonight. You know what that means!”
And Anthony goes,
And Anthony goes,
“Yeeeeah! I’m gonna drink the piss!”
And all the other guys pause... and look at him… and go…
“Yeeeeeah!”
“Yeeeeeah!”
Because they had no idea what sex was. They were kids. Like they all knew sex had to do with the penis. Pee comes out the penis, so sex must be piss drinking.
But then they look at me to see if I'm on board and I'm like…
“Yeeeeeah! Drink that piss!”
Because I also had no idea. I walked away very confused. I was like, “You… you drink it? You drink the piss?”
“Yeeeeeah! Drink that piss!”
Because I also had no idea. I walked away very confused. I was like, “You… you drink it? You drink the piss?”
And so now, we can flash back. And I am sitting in front of my incredibly religious father. It’s 4th grade. And he says, “Do you have any questions at all?”
And I know, in retrospect, that what he was expecting, “Is that what the f word means?” or something like that.
And I know, in retrospect, that what he was expecting, “Is that what the f word means?” or something like that.
But instead, he’s looking at his sweet innocent 9 year old, church loving boy. And his little boy is looking right back at him into his Jesus loving eyes And says, “Dad… What’s it mean… to drink the piss?”
And my dad just goes, “Uh, that’s… that’s not a thing.” And ends the talk.
Here’s what that I love about my dad’s response. “Drink the piss,” is definitely a thing. It might not be a "normal" thing, but drink the piss? Definitely a thing. And my dad had to have known that at the time, so my dad just freaked out at the sheer kinkiness of the question.
So, I’ve often imagined my dad having to go back to my mom that night, because I’m sure they talked beforehand about how my dad was going to give me the talk. She must have asked, “How’d the talk go?” And my dad had one of two options.
Either 1: He could’ve lied. He could’ve said, “Everything was fine. Very normal. We have a very normal,, well hydrated son.
Or 2: He went back and was like, “Our son is kinky as Fuuuu**!”
I’ve always wondered which one it was. And I actually got so curious that, the other week, I asked my dad if he remembered what happened when he gave me the talk, and he said, “Not really,” so I told him the story.
He’s significantly less religious now, so he laughed the whole way through and was like, “Ha Ha! Drink the piss!”
At the end of the story I said, “So, Dad, I have to ask, when you went back to mom, which one did you do? Did you lie, or did you tell the truth?”
And my significantly less religious father smirked and said, “Hmm, I think I went back and I told her about "drink the piss," and we tried it that night but we didn’t much like it.”
The greatest, most awful response I could’ve asked for.
The greatest, most awful response I could’ve asked for.
This story sponsored by Dos Equis. Drink the piss. But it drink responsibly.
