The Birds & the Bees

I am one of the lucky people who has known her best friend since she was five years old. I won’t tell you how many years exactly we’ve been friends, but it’s been a while. Let’s leave it at that. And nine years ago, that friend had a baby, Callan. I was not (and still am not) a big fan of children, but I’ve made an exception for this one and have donned the title of “Auntie.” But this post is not about long friendships or overcoming fears… it’s about double entendres.

Like many people who are around children, my friend Christy and I speak in several different languages – some literally different, like Spanish, and others simply more complex versions of our own – to try to evade the increasingly intelligent little ears of her son. This has become increasingly difficult (as he’s a smart little bugger) over the years, but still we persist. And, like so many people who have been friends as long as we have, sometimes we find stupid and sometimes dirty things quite humorous. Hence, the problem.

Callan recently started taekwando lessons with a man called Master Johnson. The mature adults that we are, we could barely refrain from snickering when he introduced himself. Callan, of course, didn’t know any better. Our little inside joke lasted for several weeks and we were, of course, very polite and understanding around the Master himself. (It’s certainly not his fault and he’s a very nice man – not deserving of any kind of teasing.) But one day, one thing lead to another and Christy began speaking in Spanish to me about a friend’s sexual exploits. We giggled (again, we’re soooo very mature) and Callan became increasingly agitated by our code.

We eventually distracted him, but somehow the subject turned to Hooters and how kids at Callan’s school were allowed to wear Hooters T-shirts. Then, I opened my yap and said, “Yeah, it’s just like those Big Johnson shirts guys used to wear when we were in school.” Oops. Our sweet little nine year old didn’t understand that double entendres and, of course, wanted an explanation. Now, mind you, his mother had skirted around her early discussion of sexual exploits with the classic “It’s not appropriate for you,” but here she piped up and said, “You had to open your mouth. Explain it, Auntie!” Now, I have to note that Callan has already experienced “the talk” and he and Christy are quite open about these things, but Auntie has not been a part of these conversations. And Auntie has no children to whom “the talk” must be given. So, Auntie was a little awkward… and a little embarrassed… but I think I did all right. No tears shed and only a modicum of blushing and giggles. Now, we just have to hope that Callan never makes the connection between Auntie’s “Big Johnson” speech and poor Master Johnson at taekwando.