The Talk
by Cabbers"Um, Mom, and Mom, I appreciate what you're trying to do," Gus was already blushing. "But I'm fifteen."
"See," interjected MamaLinds, "I told you he was too young for The Talk. He's too young!" She protested to no-one.
"He's not too young," MamaMel was covering her embarrassment with belligerence. "You may not be thinking about it now," she steam-rolled on, "But soon-"
"No, no," Gus hastily put in, "It's not that. Ah," how could he put this, "You guys are just a little- behind the curve?"
"You mean, you . . . you're-" He thought MammaMel might have a heart attack. "You already---"
"That's not what I mean!" He hastily steered the conversation away from any discussion of his actual sex life. "It's just a little late for the The Talk, that's all. I mean, I already had it- when I was nine-"
"Nine!"
"-and again when I was twelve-"
"Jesus."
"-not to mention that attempt last year."
"Nine?" MamaLinds seemed stuck on that.
"Nine, yeah," Gus responded, calmer in seeing them so panicked. "That would be when I accidentally discovered my dad's stash of condoms and asked him what they were-"
"And he told you?" MamaMel was indignant and embarrassed at the same time.
"Right. And then when I was twelve and Grandma Deb decided it was time for me to hear the facts of life-"
"That figures."
"And then, last year, when Uncle Mike tried to talk to me about it- that didn't work out very well, poor guy." Gus was clearly enjoying himself now. "And that's not even counting health class in school, and hanging around in the Liberty Diner since before I could walk," He pretended to consider, "Which, actually, may have been the most instructive of all."
His moms just stared at him, torn between relief at being let off the hook, and horror at the kind of environment they'd exposed him to.
"So," MammaLinds cleared her throat, "You already know . . . everything?"
"I could teach a class," He realized as soon as he said it that that might not be as reassuring as he'd intended.
The flabbergasted women obviously couldn't think of anything else to say. "Well, then," Gus said, a little awkward, "I think I'll go and do some homework," he got up and headed for his room, but paused at the kitchen doorway. "Um, thanks, though, for," he gestured vaguely and beat a hasty retreat.
On his way up the stairs, he heard MamaMel say something about that shit Brian and nine years old, and how come they hadn't known about this. Gus shut his door with a sigh. It looked like it was going to be Dad vs. MamaMel, round three thousand sixty-four.
Oh, well. Let them deal with it. He had an assignment for health class to do.