Vinegar 29, Guava 29: The Right Message
Title: The Right Message
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vinegar 29 (use only as directed), guava 29 (mother/father knows best), malt (#1: I can only show you the door, you have to walk through it. - The Matrix), caramel.
Word Count: 1298
Rating: PG-13 for some frank sexual talk.
Summary: Ivy does not give your typical birds-and-bees talk.
TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of rape and sexual assault below the cut.
Notes: This is much less funny than it sounds, and also probably preachy, but I don't care. Some anvils need dropping (even if Ivy is not so much dropping this one as hurling it with great force).
Andy was peacefully reading in his room when his mom came in, shut the door, sat down on his bed and said, "Okay, kiddo. Time for the sex talk."
The sheer horror inspired by that sentence bypassed his brain entirely in favor of shooting down his spine and propelling him into motion. He shut his book and sat bolt upright, ready to flee. "That's okay, Mom," he said. "I don't need it. I already know all about sex."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Not that sex talk," she said. "I went through basic sex ed too. I know what they tell you. Besides, you have got to know more about penises than I do, since I haven't seen one since Uncle Aaron lost his swim trunks when he was ten."
Andy felt his face contorting. He wasn't sure what expression he made, but he was pretty sure that his mom was making a valiant effort not to laugh at it.
"Anyway," she continued, mercifully changing the subject. "This talk is about the things they don't tell you in sex ed."
He slumped down against his pillow, hugging his book tight against his chest. "They already showed us how to put on a condom," he muttered, cheeks burning at the memory.
"Not good enough," Mom said. "Unless they told you to always, always wear one. Did they tell you that?"
Andy shook his head, mute.
"Fine," she said. "Always wear a condom. If you're having sex with a girl, wear a condom. If you're having sex with a guy, wear a condom. If you are putting your penis into any orifice of any other person, wear a goddamn condom. It could save your life, and it helps prevent unwanted children."
He buried his face in his hands. "I know, Mom! I know I could get an STD or AIDS or something and I know I should use latex condoms and leave a bit at the top and I know, okay?"
"Tough. You're not getting out of this conversation. Don't trust that the girl is taking birth control or is disease-free. Don't trust your buddies who tell you it feels better without a condom. Wear the damn condom and know it's safe."
"Mom," Andy said, into his hands. "Have mercy."
But, of course, she had a heart of stone. "Basic sexual etiquette," she continued, remorselessly. "Don't have sex if you don't want to, regardless of any other circumstances. It is not worth it. Don't believe me, ask your Uncle Aaron."
Andy wasn't sure what Uncle Aaron would tell him, being as how his aunt and uncle were asexual, but he was damn sure he wouldn't be asking Uncle Aaron any such thing.
His mom was still talking. "If you do want to have sex, try to ensure that everyone involved has a good time. This won't always be possible, especially when one or more of you is inexperienced, but you should at least try, because it will be noted and appreciated. Listen to what your partner is saying. Tell your partner what feels good."
He let out an inarticulate wail. Not that it was bad advice-- in fact, he was pretty sure it was all really good advice, but that didn't change the fact that this was his mother and he didn't want to hear it from her. Ever.
And yet she was still talking. "Most importantly," she said, "do not rape people. If somebody says no, stop immediately no matter what you were doing or what they said before. Don't have sex with people who can't consent. Don't rape."
"Mom!" he yelled, outraged. "God! I know that!"
"Andy," his mother said, and her voice was so solemn, so not-mad, that he took his hands away from his face to look at her. Her expression was more serious than he could ever remember seeing it. "Do you know why I'm telling you this?"
He shook his head again. "No!" he said. "I know all of this. I took sex ed and I do a lot of reading in my spare time. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen it on TV. And God, I'd never rape a girl! Why the hell would you even say that to me?"
She took a deep breath, and rubbed one hand along her other arm. "Because you have seen it on TV," she said, soberly. "Because one in four women and one in six men is sexually assaulted at some point in their lives. Because your little sister is right now being told by everything in the media and the news that it is her responsibility to not get raped. Do you get that?"
"Yeah," he said, and thought that if someone even looked at his little sister in a way she didn't like, he would gladly pummel them into nonexistence. "But... really, one in four? Isn't that... a lot? I mean, we've come so far."
His mom looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable, then said, "Name four women that you and I both know."
Andy blinked. "What?"
"Go on," she said. "Name four women we both know."
"Um," he said. "You, Mama, Leah, and... I guess Aunt Clara. Why?"
She nodded. "I thought you'd say that. Your mama's been groped on the subway before. Hell, come to think of it I've been groped on the subway. And Aunt Clara's been sexually assaulted by boyfriends before. I have her permission to tell you that, by the way, or I wouldn't."
He gaped at her for a moment, then stammered, "A-and Leah?"
"Nothing, as far as I know." Mom shrugged. "But she's only seven. Look, kiddo, this is a problem. It's not one caused by you, because you're a good kid, and you know what 'no' means. But you're also a charming and persuasive kid, and you're growing up in a culture that gives you all the wrong messages about being sexual. They're telling you that women's bodies are property, that because your mama is beautiful, she deserves to be wolf-whistled at and to be the object of stares and disrespectful comments. They're telling you that women don't really mean no. They're telling you that you should have sex as early and as often as possible, and that the only important thing is you making a conquest, not what the girl feels about it."
"But I don't believe any of that," Andy said. "That's all stupid."
"I know you don't," and she reached over and ruffled his hair. "Andy, you're a good kid. You've grown up with women, you esteem and respect them. I'm not really worried about you. I just..." She hesitated. "I just want you to get the right messages, so when some fratboy in college tells you that there's a girl passed out drunk upstairs and that you should go get some, you can get her some help and call the police on him. So when somebody tells you a rape joke, you can call them on their bullshit, because that shit isn't funny."
He thought about that for a minute. "So," he said, slowly, "I guess what you're saying is it's not enough to know all this stuff. You have to... be a good influence? I guess?"
"Something like that," she said, and the approval in her voice was warm. "Look, this is everybody's problem, not just yours. Let me reiterate that I know you're a good kid, and I know you'll be part of the solution. I just... I want you to be an active part of the solution, not a passive part."
"Okay," Andy said, and sat up straight. "I'm listening." He waited a beat, then added, "Just as long as you don't talk about condoms anymore."
She smiled at him. "That's my boy."
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Vinegar 29 (use only as directed), guava 29 (mother/father knows best), malt (#1: I can only show you the door, you have to walk through it. - The Matrix), caramel.
Word Count: 1298
Rating: PG-13 for some frank sexual talk.
Summary: Ivy does not give your typical birds-and-bees talk.
TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of rape and sexual assault below the cut.
Notes: This is much less funny than it sounds, and also probably preachy, but I don't care. Some anvils need dropping (even if Ivy is not so much dropping this one as hurling it with great force).
Andy was peacefully reading in his room when his mom came in, shut the door, sat down on his bed and said, "Okay, kiddo. Time for the sex talk."
The sheer horror inspired by that sentence bypassed his brain entirely in favor of shooting down his spine and propelling him into motion. He shut his book and sat bolt upright, ready to flee. "That's okay, Mom," he said. "I don't need it. I already know all about sex."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Not that sex talk," she said. "I went through basic sex ed too. I know what they tell you. Besides, you have got to know more about penises than I do, since I haven't seen one since Uncle Aaron lost his swim trunks when he was ten."
Andy felt his face contorting. He wasn't sure what expression he made, but he was pretty sure that his mom was making a valiant effort not to laugh at it.
"Anyway," she continued, mercifully changing the subject. "This talk is about the things they don't tell you in sex ed."
He slumped down against his pillow, hugging his book tight against his chest. "They already showed us how to put on a condom," he muttered, cheeks burning at the memory.
"Not good enough," Mom said. "Unless they told you to always, always wear one. Did they tell you that?"
Andy shook his head, mute.
"Fine," she said. "Always wear a condom. If you're having sex with a girl, wear a condom. If you're having sex with a guy, wear a condom. If you are putting your penis into any orifice of any other person, wear a goddamn condom. It could save your life, and it helps prevent unwanted children."
He buried his face in his hands. "I know, Mom! I know I could get an STD or AIDS or something and I know I should use latex condoms and leave a bit at the top and I know, okay?"
"Tough. You're not getting out of this conversation. Don't trust that the girl is taking birth control or is disease-free. Don't trust your buddies who tell you it feels better without a condom. Wear the damn condom and know it's safe."
"Mom," Andy said, into his hands. "Have mercy."
But, of course, she had a heart of stone. "Basic sexual etiquette," she continued, remorselessly. "Don't have sex if you don't want to, regardless of any other circumstances. It is not worth it. Don't believe me, ask your Uncle Aaron."
Andy wasn't sure what Uncle Aaron would tell him, being as how his aunt and uncle were asexual, but he was damn sure he wouldn't be asking Uncle Aaron any such thing.
His mom was still talking. "If you do want to have sex, try to ensure that everyone involved has a good time. This won't always be possible, especially when one or more of you is inexperienced, but you should at least try, because it will be noted and appreciated. Listen to what your partner is saying. Tell your partner what feels good."
He let out an inarticulate wail. Not that it was bad advice-- in fact, he was pretty sure it was all really good advice, but that didn't change the fact that this was his mother and he didn't want to hear it from her. Ever.
And yet she was still talking. "Most importantly," she said, "do not rape people. If somebody says no, stop immediately no matter what you were doing or what they said before. Don't have sex with people who can't consent. Don't rape."
"Mom!" he yelled, outraged. "God! I know that!"
"Andy," his mother said, and her voice was so solemn, so not-mad, that he took his hands away from his face to look at her. Her expression was more serious than he could ever remember seeing it. "Do you know why I'm telling you this?"
He shook his head again. "No!" he said. "I know all of this. I took sex ed and I do a lot of reading in my spare time. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen it on TV. And God, I'd never rape a girl! Why the hell would you even say that to me?"
She took a deep breath, and rubbed one hand along her other arm. "Because you have seen it on TV," she said, soberly. "Because one in four women and one in six men is sexually assaulted at some point in their lives. Because your little sister is right now being told by everything in the media and the news that it is her responsibility to not get raped. Do you get that?"
"Yeah," he said, and thought that if someone even looked at his little sister in a way she didn't like, he would gladly pummel them into nonexistence. "But... really, one in four? Isn't that... a lot? I mean, we've come so far."
His mom looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable, then said, "Name four women that you and I both know."
Andy blinked. "What?"
"Go on," she said. "Name four women we both know."
"Um," he said. "You, Mama, Leah, and... I guess Aunt Clara. Why?"
She nodded. "I thought you'd say that. Your mama's been groped on the subway before. Hell, come to think of it I've been groped on the subway. And Aunt Clara's been sexually assaulted by boyfriends before. I have her permission to tell you that, by the way, or I wouldn't."
He gaped at her for a moment, then stammered, "A-and Leah?"
"Nothing, as far as I know." Mom shrugged. "But she's only seven. Look, kiddo, this is a problem. It's not one caused by you, because you're a good kid, and you know what 'no' means. But you're also a charming and persuasive kid, and you're growing up in a culture that gives you all the wrong messages about being sexual. They're telling you that women's bodies are property, that because your mama is beautiful, she deserves to be wolf-whistled at and to be the object of stares and disrespectful comments. They're telling you that women don't really mean no. They're telling you that you should have sex as early and as often as possible, and that the only important thing is you making a conquest, not what the girl feels about it."
"But I don't believe any of that," Andy said. "That's all stupid."
"I know you don't," and she reached over and ruffled his hair. "Andy, you're a good kid. You've grown up with women, you esteem and respect them. I'm not really worried about you. I just..." She hesitated. "I just want you to get the right messages, so when some fratboy in college tells you that there's a girl passed out drunk upstairs and that you should go get some, you can get her some help and call the police on him. So when somebody tells you a rape joke, you can call them on their bullshit, because that shit isn't funny."
He thought about that for a minute. "So," he said, slowly, "I guess what you're saying is it's not enough to know all this stuff. You have to... be a good influence? I guess?"
"Something like that," she said, and the approval in her voice was warm. "Look, this is everybody's problem, not just yours. Let me reiterate that I know you're a good kid, and I know you'll be part of the solution. I just... I want you to be an active part of the solution, not a passive part."
"Okay," Andy said, and sat up straight. "I'm listening." He waited a beat, then added, "Just as long as you don't talk about condoms anymore."
She smiled at him. "That's my boy."