Rule #50: Tell Your Child How She Was Conceived

Kids adore storytelling, and they especially enjoy tales where they are integral parts of the plot and its development.

And there’s no better story than the bumping, grinding and eventual liquid DNA hand-off that took place when little Elizabeth was conceived.

It’s a glorious saga of passion, carnal calisthenics, a $25 entrée…and 10 martinis.

In short, it was a beautiful night—and if you offer every detail of the evening to your child, she’ll appreciate just how incredibly lucky she is that, on the night she was conceived, it was lady’s night at Hungry Harry’s Bar & Grill and martinis were half price.

Once Upon a Time, We Had Libidos…

No matter how the seed was planted, the story is worth telling—it’s about clothes ripped off in a libidinous frenzy, sweat glands choked with Old Spice, careless words uttered like so many staccato Valentines hand-written by Dr. Woodcock.

Above all, don’t hold back. It’s important that your son or daughter, regardless of age, learns just how passionate and vital you once were. Indeed, beneath your fleshy exterior lies the once-proud (albeit fumbling) Lothario of backseats, closets, and bathrooms. Here’s a little help with the details:

Your mom always had a thing for hot rods…

Not fast cars, just roomy enough for taking care of business. You can approach this news with your daughter by saying something like, “You know, Jessica, mommy and daddy made you while daddy was driving on Interstate 95 just past the Waffle House.”

“Mommy was anxious, and I was always in a constant state of pants-related anxiety, so…well, given how fast my Honda Civic was going and how I couldn’t actually see the road, you really were a miracle baby.”

Your father and I just kind of bumped into each other at a keg party…

If your son’s conception was a complete surprise, it’s a mistake to hold off telling him was, um…a mistake.

Candor is important, and he’ll appreciate the romantic details of your first encounter:

“So, I was at this monster kegger, and I went into the bathroom looking for hand lotion because the winters always chap my hands—and then your father also wandered into the bathroom, claiming to be looking for his beer huggy.”

“Next thing you know, your father found his huggy, but it wasn’t for his beer, if you know what I mean.”

“He later said I kept calling him Richard, which was the name of the guy who brought me to the party. I really don’t remember that part…”

And, yes, skip the part about the paternity testing that transpired several weeks later. Those are the types of details that can really mess a kid up.

Tagged as: confusing teens about sex, scaring your kid shitless, scarring children's memories