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As a younger sibling to two significantly older offspring, I was privy to a lot of “trickle-down” information about sex and sexuality. Some accurate, some not. I absorbed most of it without comment or question.
As I approached about four years old, I decided that I was going to ask my mother about sex. However, having the typical tact of a child, I didn’t think about the opportune moment to do so.
My brother is eleven years older than I and was learning to drive. Always excited for opportunities to get behind the wheel, he convinced my mother to let him take us all on a short errand.
As we were backing out (!) of the very long driveway (for practice, of course) I chose the exact moment to ask, “Mom…what’s sex?”
I have a strikingly clear of my brother freaking out and driving straight back into the ditch. He was clearly shocked by his little sister coming out with such a thing.
“Watch out for the tree!” My mom’s frantic answer disregarded my question as my brother narrowly avoided a poplar and came to an urgent stop.
“We’ll talk about it later, honey. Here, let me drive.”
That pretty much ended that talk for the day. I don’t think my mother ever got back to me, but my brother didn’t really want to practice driving with me in the car much anymore.
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