Who first used the term “the birds and the bees”? I don’t know, but maybe it was my mom who told me a story when I was ten and got my first period. Although it wasn’t about the birds and the bees, specifically, it was pretty close to a similar explanation of how I could get pregnant. Hmm! Never thought about it before.

My mom was so great! I could talk to her about anything. And, I thought she could do the same with me. Guess, anything means, “anything but sex”. What she told me was that women have seeds inside themselves, which mature when girls get their period. These seeds are watered by men and then grow into babies inside the mother. OMG!! “How gross,” I thought. For the longest time, I imagined that when I got married, my husband would urinate on me. I didn’t like that idea!!

Fast forward to two years later – 1957. I was twelve and had a group of friends on College Avenue in Bronx, NY. I remember their names – Marcia, Linda, Barbara, and Lila. We used to hang together on the corner in front of the Luncheonette, sometimes with the guys in our class, and drink cokes (the syrupy bubbly kind) and swap comic books – what an innocent time!). Who knew that the coke and Pepsi sodas were bad for you too!

One day, Linda invited us girls up to her apartment. She said she had a book she found in her Mom’s room called, “The Wedding Night”. We all went upstairs to her room and she started reading the book to us. I asked before she started reading, “What is the ‘Wedding Night; what does that mean?”

They all looked at me with wide surprised eyes and said in unison, “Don’t you know about sex?” I responded, “Yes, of course, a man urinates on a woman, waters her seeds, and she gets pregnant.” My friends broke out in laughter and being kind said that they weren’t laughing at me but that I had no clue and they proceeded to tell me “the truth” about sex. Interestingly, we still all believed that you only had sex when you were married. Oh, those innocent fifties!!

Now, 60 plus years later, after a few lovers, two husbands, two children, five grandchildren, and five golden retrievers, I can tell you that the only male that ever urinated on me was my second golden, Sir Lancelot, when he was ill and could not control himself. He jumped up on my bed to tell me he had to go out. Alas, I wasn’t fast enough.  Luckily, I did not become pregnant and give birth to a golden hybrid. What would we call that now? Not a golden doodle. Perhaps, a goldengwen. No matter, I forgive my dog, and I forgive my mom for keeping me innocent as long as she could.