It was bedtime, but for Brittany, it was exploring time.
She silently rummaged through her mother’s stack of books in the donation box by the front door. They were about things she’d never seen. Each cover had a world to explore, from trees to abstract colors, elephants and a statue of a very serious man.
It all looked forbidden and fun.
Then she found an interesting book with people on the front. The outline of their bodies seemed to mimic hers and those of other people, but something was different. There were blue and red lines inside the flesh spaces of the bodies. She looked at the letters and started to sound out the words the way her mother taught her. She plopped herself down on the floor and began thumbing through the pages with curiosity, her mind set ablaze with each turn of phrase.
Who knew how interesting a book by the front door could be?
Brittany kept reading and tracing the pictures with her little finger, until her mother called for her to come to bed. She scooped herself off the floor and gripped the book tightly as she ran down the hall to find her mother.
“Mommy! Look!”
Her mother, Trish, answered with reassuring but very tired tones and grunts.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
The little girl continued to exclaim, leafing through the book as quickly as she could while holding it above her waist. She continued bellowing and reading until finally she just blurted out, “What’s inter … c … c … course?”
Trish stiffened a bit and quickly blinked to make her face as neutral as possible. She finally turned around and got down to Brittany’s eye level as the little girl proudly displayed a page vividly depicting two naked people. The scientific terms for their anatomy were written alongside their bodies, as were handwritten notes she recognized.
Trish grabbed the book and flipped it to the front cover. The decades-old font read “Human Anatomy.” She was recalling the face of her college professor upon realizing her daughter’s eyes were fixed on her face with bewilderment.
Again, the little girl repeated her question impatiently: “What’s intercourse?”
“Brittany,” Trish started sweetly as she tried to find the right words, “It’s nine o’clock. It’s past your bedtime. I promise you can ask me all the questions you want, but not tonight because it’s bedtime.”
Trish felt saved by her response, but Brittany’s 5-year-old girl curiosity felt thwarted. She sulked toward the bed and was jolted by a quick kiss on her forehand and a swift grab of her newly discovered book. Unphased and suddenly tired, she crawled into bed and hugged her stuffed animals tight.
Trish closed the door and melted through the door frame of her own bedroom before laughing herself to tears, praying questions about “inter … cc … course” would be forgotten for a while.
I’m sure many of you can relate to this story, and if you’re wondering if it’s true, it is. That little girl, now older, has a more vivid understanding about the function of sex while incorporating the values she was taught to form her own. A conversation accidentally began that night that opened the door to many more. This conversation was coined “The Talk.”
We’ve all had the talk with someone. It’s necessary. Where and how to begin can be a challenge, but the conversation is ongoing and it really never ends.
Spoiler alert: I’m “Trish” and the little girl is one of my daughters – although I’ll never tell which one.
So, let’s just keep going with my prose, shall we?
Trish and her little girl end up having a challengingly beautiful conversation that will hopefully span many years. Here’s hoping “The Talk” with your child turns into a growing, candid, fulfilling and never-ending conversation.
Diamone Ukegbu is a local Little Haiti artist, creative, mom and wife.