A New Chapter in the History of Birds and Bees

My parents never told me about “The Birds and the Bees.”

That’s what they used to call the sex story back then, and from what I understand, once parents started stuttering and shuffling and then sitting you down and placing a gentle parental hand over your own, kids all across America got the message that this tale couldn’t possibly be as frivolous as it sounded.

So they paid pretty close attention. In my neighborhood, rumor had it that “The Birds and the Bees” was loaded with Deep Symbolism about the real world, and who knew--years down the road it could appear on, say, a college entrance exam.

But, as I say, I never did hear “The Birds and the Bees” firsthand.

(Each parent’s version was apparently curiously unique. Back then they didn’t write this kind of stuff down, so you couldn’t just go look it up).

My own father, however, did get fairly imaginative with a story about some magical cabbage patch. Figuring that that kind of covered it, I stopped asking those types of questions after that.

Until the fifth grade, that is. That’s when a girlfriend volunteered an even wilder story about strange corporal contortions, which, being college-bound, I naturally refused to believe for years (even though it later turned out to be true).

The reason that I’m even bringing all this up is because I am now a grown-up myself, with two daughters.

I figure that sometime, preferably in the very distant future, my daughters will want to know about sex, and naturally, what with all my wisdom about birds and bees and cabbage patches, they will turn to me.

So I like to keep up to date. Which is why I was particularly interested in a study presented in the April issue of the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

This study was led by Dr. Dina Ralt and Dr. Michael Eisenback of the Weizmann Institute in Rehovot, Israel, along with colleagues at Tel Aviv University Medical School and Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville.

According to expert opinion, this study may have uncovered an important clue in the mystery of human conception, something that could very well blow “The Birds and the Bees” clear out of the water:

Eggs beckon sperm.

Oh, not just any sperm, of course. (I mean, with some 300 million contenders, who can blame an egg for being picky?)

No, according to the study, the egg extends its come-hither invitation to only the most competent sperm, one that can lap its competitors and still have enough energy left over for say, fertilization.

Needless to say, this information presents a whole new dilemma for the modern parent.

Personally, I had already written off “The Bird and the Bees” as too far-fetched (even my 4-year-old already suspects that humans are not hatched ) and the cabbage patch yarn as needlessly traumatic (would you ever want to have a baby if you just knew it would turn out like one of those Cabbage Patch Kids?).

So for my own daughters I was thinking about something more realistic, or pseudo-realistic. I mean, without getting too technical.

No sense in subscribing to the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, for example.

Because you know how kids are. Once you start opening up to them too much, revealing your sources, next thing you know they start questioning your judgment.

“But why did your egg pick the sperm with the blond hair, Mommy? You know I want red hair like the Little Mermaid!”

So you don’t want to get into all that.

Then again, you do want your child to be well-informed. I mean, look at Dr. Ruth. She must make millions!

But that, of course, is not the point. What I’m saying here is that sex is certainly nothing to be ashamed of. And the reproduction of the species. Why, just think about that! Truly a miracle.

So, uh, a parent must strive to convey this message in a clear and concise manner, without stupid euphemisms or ridiculous stories. We owe this to our children.

Which, naturally, is the whole point here!

So, anyway, about my personal plans to share the good news with my children. Yes, well, I have been thinking about that.

The talking egg. Preposterous. Who would believe that? And then, of course, you’d have to get into sperm as well, and how come boys have them and girls don’t, and really, it might just be a tad too complicated.

So what I was thinking was:

Their father!

I mean, for tradition’s sake. After all, it was my own father who told me about the cabbage patch.

And you can all see just how well-informed I am.