Last night, I had "THE TALK", and it didn't require pickling my liver afterwards! Surprisingly, it went really well. And, I found out that even though fifth graders sit in the back of the bus, there's no sexually inappropriate business (talk or actions) going on (prayer works, people!). And I believe her, since A) she's a huge nark, and 2) she can't fake not knowing stuff like that. I can read her like a book, which really pisses her off. Heh.
Really, it was more about the girly business that is headed our way like a runaway freight train rather than the sex part, but since she FINALLY asked how babies are made, I told her. And didn't even vomit in my mouth. Not once. Instead of giving a lecture, or reading off the Tampax website, I just answered her questions.
She did think that when I said "vagina" I said "Virginia", which led her to declare that her vag is now named after one of the 50 states. It also led to a greatly needed laugh session, because a) who doesn't name their vagina, and II) nothing like busting up the potentially most awkward discussion of your life (besides telling your boyfriend you've got the herpies or the clap) with a good laugh.
DISCLAIMER: My vagina does not have a name. Nor will I be throwing any "WELCOME TO WOMANHOOD!" parties. I do reserve the right to drink as though I'm throwing a frat house kegger once we're on the same cycle and PMSing at the same time.