I’m open with my children. When they have a question, I answer it. I don’t censor them, I don’t censor myself, and it can lead to some interesting conversations. But what surprises me is from where the conversations originate. My six-year-old daughter’s questions have come from out of nowhere (“Mommy, when will I get my period?”) but for my boy, I can see the little hamster wheel in his brain turning and I know exactly when the questions are going to hit and what they are going to be.
Like last night. Last night I took my son out of Hebrew school a half hour early so we could go Christmas caroling. And I mean Christmas caroling in the sense of which my father would approve. We sang about the baby Jesus. We done gone religious. Not our religion, true, but someone’s religion. A friend from the school invited us out for her yearly neighborhood caroling, and it was really fun. Truth be told, I find some of those religious carols quite beautiful. We sang “Holy Night.” We sang the song that goes “Gloria” (which when I saw in the book titled “Angels We Have Heard on High,” I thought was a new song, but then the Glorias hit and I totally knew what we were singing and joined right on in, although I had the mumble every word that wasn’t “Gloria”). We sang “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” We praised Jesus. Oh yes we did. And then we went home and lit the candles on our menorah. Because although we may sing about the baby Jesus, we save our actual observances for the Maccabees.
Anyone want to guess what the question was the boy asked on the way home? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
Three seconds into the car ride home: “Mommy, what’s a virgin?”
I explained. I explained about virgin births and how this is why people believe Jesus is the messiah. The boy accepted it. The girl was having none of it and we went around in circles. “But how could he have been born if his mom was a virgin?” “That’s the entire point. Because she was a virgin, then it’s a miracle. They believe God is the father.” “But how can he be the father if she’s a virgin?” “Because who else could make a virgin pregnant but God.” And then I scratch my head, wondering why I’m arguing Christian theology when I’m a Jew through and through. So I finally say, “Who wants to open presents when we get home!” and we are suddenly off of virgin births.
But it’s not just the Christians that bring up such topics. The Jews do too. One Jew in particular: Woody Allen. I was watching the American Masters documentary on Woody Allen, conveniently forgetting that an eight-year-old boy might not be the best audience for the PBS show.
Woody Allen on oral contraception: I asked a girl to go to bed with me, and she said “No.”
The boy: What’s oral contraception?
Woody Allen (in Annie Hall): Hey, don’t knock m*asturbation. It’s sex with someone I love.
The boy: What’s m*asturbation?
Woody Allen: … {that’s me turning off the TV before Woody Allen can say anything else that’s going to start a therapy-inducing conversation.}
He’s learning. I’m learning, too, albeit a bit more slowly. I need to watch out for Woody Allen. And the Christians. They bring strange topics into our household.
With that, I leave you all with a Happy Hanukkah. And a Merry Christmas. Or whatever is your family chooses to observe.
Have you seen this version of “what’s a virgin?” — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iW0Q9GcL3u8