The birds and the bees chat delivered from my father was short and too the point. "Don’t fuck anything you wouldn’t want to marry"
What impacted me the most that day was the fact he had the balls to use profanity to a twelve-year-old. The discussion was ill timed. At age twelve I had already decided that my father was mostly smoke and mirrors and the only time I really took him serious was when he was loosening his belt and muttering through clenched teeth something like, "This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me".
I do however credit my father transgressing his penchant for ample female attributes. I don’t think it was just me either. My two brothers and sister as well were subject to nightly displays of affection after the evening meal. It was never spoken amongst us but we all witnessed fathers positioning behind mom for an amorous double helping of mom for desert. I was well into my teens when I figured out why us kids always got stuck with dishes. Wasn’t till I felt my first full breast that I truly understood what all the fuss was about.