I remember the day that my mother invited me (I was about 9), my sister (8), and brother (6) to have a talk. It didn't seem that it was gonna be anything bad. She had the three of us stand next to her (she was sitting in a La-Z-Boy recliner). She then proceeded to tell us about the birds and the bees. It didn't take very long. I basically was like, "Hmm, so that's how it works. Interesting." I wasn't too impressed, though. I immediately headed out of the room to do something, anything else. My brother, Brian, though, had a crapload of questions. He asked my mom to explain it in greater (read: explicit) detail. Curious kid. My mom also said that if we had other questions to refer to this set of books that were on the bookshelf:
As I got older, I did take a look at them. But on that day, I wasn't buying. Yucky!