When little Emily came home from her first day of second grade, she promptly asked her mother, "What's sex?"
Emily's mother had been expecting the question for some time, so she launched into a well prepared speech about the birds and the bees and eggs and sperm and what happens when two people love each other very, very much and on and on. After about half an hour, noticing that her daughter's brow was still furrowed, she stopped talking. "Honey, haven't you been able to follow what I've been telling you?"
"I have, Mom, I really have," replied Emily, pulling her school registration card out of her backpack. "But how am I going to fit it all in this little box?"
Emily's mother had been expecting the question for some time, so she launched into a well prepared speech about the birds and the bees and eggs and sperm and what happens when two people love each other very, very much and on and on. After about half an hour, noticing that her daughter's brow was still furrowed, she stopped talking. "Honey, haven't you been able to follow what I've been telling you?"
"I have, Mom, I really have," replied Emily, pulling her school registration card out of her backpack. "But how am I going to fit it all in this little box?"