eBaum’s World calls it: The Most Traumatizing Kids Book Ever.
Which I think is really misleading.
It should be called: The Most Awesomest Kids Book Ever!
For starters, my own 5th-grade Sex Ed instruction used the original, 1972 edition of The Joy of Sex as our in-class reading activity. So, yknow…that sets the bar pretty high for any other would-be contenders to the title of “Most Traumatizing-to-Children Graphic Illustrations of Sexual Intercourse EVER.”
And I took this class in church, y’all.
Granted, it was a Unitarian church. But still.
Compared to that marvel of art history, Per Holm Knudsen’s 1975 How a Baby Is Made is downright cuddly! Like two muppets kissing!
While getting their freak on!
Now, onto a few other observations regarding Knudsen’s masterpiece…
“Sometimes when a mother feels especially loving, her abdomen becomes transparent.”
For nine months.
A friend^ asks what would seem to be a reasonable question: “Why don’t the mommy and daddy wear clothes between conception and labor?”
Because the ’70s, dear.
Do try to keep up.
(Personally, I love how even in utero, you can see Baby’s got her daddy’s eyes. Awww….)
Importantly, NO CLOTHES did not mean NO STYLE.
The way the laboring mother’s pigtails stay perfectly be-ribboned and in line with her knees from first contraction to delivery?
That is some tight hair game.
“But why is the doctor holding a pick axe?”—same friend.
Now that is what we in the biz call, A Good Question™.
I got nuthin’.
Though I do love how determined that kid is: pulling himself out with his own “hey, I got arms! Lemme use ’em!” enthusiasm.
Major props, Baby.
I am, however, slightly concerned about where did your mother’s arms go.
Here endeth today’s lesson!
Got any horror- or humor-filled Sex Ed stories of your own? Please share in the comments!
^ I am often asked, “Where do you you find this stuff??” when I share some of my wackier discoveries. [Though, to be honest, I find this particular book equal parts wacky and wonderful.]
Once again, credit goes to one of my OB/GYN BFFs!
Both of whom are themselves quite wacky and wonderful. Remind me to tell you sometime about the day in college one of them invented the Tamponica [patent-pending] through the happy discovery that, when blowing through a tampon applicator tube — the way one does — a skilled musician can sometimes play lovely, lovely tunes.
Well, recognizable tunes, at least.
[Big smooches, D and K! And lots of love!]