Sex, lies and DVDs
"I have no idea of how this came up here! I have nothing to do with this".
This was the almost automatic answer of my 15 year old son, the moment I sat on his computer (at his request) and stumbled into the records of his previous internet navigations. Let's say I found signs of his passage through sites like Playboy and its Brazilian equivalents. The first sentence of this post came before I had time to utter a single word. I was torn between the desire to start laughing and revolt at that shameless, pitiable lie. I managed to control myself and did neither. I took him into my office for a little private conversation.
If he wants to see pictures of naked women, I told him, it is none of my business. But he should remember that he shares a computer with his innocent 11 year old sister and with his angelical (insert rolling eyes here) 12 year old brother. Therefore, no privacy. His eyes widened. "And you have to know that nothing you are feeling or thinking now is exactly that original", I added. "There is probably very little that you can tell that would shock me or your father. Though I am aware that children excel at that. I have no experience with 15 year old boys. You are going to be my guinea pig. As always". He broke into laughter at the idea of being my guinea pig.
Why the hell is so hard to talk about sex with a 15 year old boy? First of all, I don't want to be preachy or look as if I am a well of knowledge and balance. Second, I never had the experience of being a 15 year old boy, so I can't use that to guide me. Third, I still entertain in the depths of my heart the idea that this kind of talk would be more adequate for a dad. I am not a dad and I don't have any intention of becoming one or even faintly resembling one.
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Paraphrasing a writer friend, my day went downhill from here. Not by anyone's fault.
I have been intolerably sad today. Some of it comes from the realization that I am flat broke without my ex-husband support for four months now. I don't even know if I will have the means to buy, in the US, the books and DVDs I was supposed to acquire to be able to do my graduate school project. Some of it comes from the realization of the limits of my ability to communicate, to reach out people I love (like my son, among others), make them see I care, and confess I am pretty vulnerable these days, so please be gentler.
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