How I Learned What Hump Meant

When I was a child, I was quite shy and what some would call a “good girl.” My mother was very strict with a side order of crazy, so I always thought if I was bad, something dreadful would happen.

I didn’t have very many friends, so I was tickled pink when Haley, the new girl from the wrong side of the tracks, asked me to play one day during recess.

I didn’t know much about Haley except that she got into trouble a lot and had a glass eye. Rumor had it she would take out the eye in the bathroom and show some kids, but I wasn’t fortunate to have caught a glimpse myself.

Haley seemed a bit dangerous, and this was appealing to me.

I was beside myself with joy when she asked me to join her club, “The Cat Club.” So far, she was the only member. I was the second. Since she was president, she assumed responsibility for initiating me into the club with a ritual called “The Cat Scratch,” which involved Haley digging her nails into the back of my hand. It left four raised red lines on my skin, but I didn’t mind, because it meant I was officially bad-ass.

I was in a gang, muthafuckas.

In her role as president, Haley felt justified in bullying and teasing me ruthlessly.

“You hump Ricky Farrell every day after school,” she said to me one day, for no particular reason.

Ricky Farrell was the yuckiest boy in class. He had buck teeth, a face like a basset hound and hair like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. He threw temper tantrums in class and ate a crayon once. Accusing me of humping him was deeply insulting.

Of course, I had no idea what “hump” actually meant. But judging by her tone, I was fairly certain it was not a synonym for “send invisible hate rays of death,” so I instinctively denied it.

“No, I don’t!” I said. “You do.”

“Nah-uh,” she said with a mocking smile. “I said it first, which means I’m right.”

I couldn’t argue with her. It was basic third grade logic.

Shit My Dad Says

That night, as my father was tucking me into bed, I asked him, “Dad, what does ‘hump’ mean?”

“What, you mean like a camel?” he said.

“No, you know, like when you hump someone.”

“Ohhh,” he said, letting out a long sigh. “You and I should have a talk this weekend.” With that, he kissed me goodnight.

What does he mean “a talk?” Was I in trouble? Holy crap, what did this one-eyed hellcat get me into?

That weekend, my father sat me down at our kitchen table, wielding a pad of paper and a pencil, and gave me my first lesson in sex education.

Many find it odd that my dad taught me about the birds and the bees, rather than my mom. But I assure you it was the right decision. My mother almost certainly would have mucked it all up and I’d have gone through life thinking a baby would pop out of my ass if a boy touched my boobs.

My father, on the other hand, was very thorough. He drew textbook-like diagrams of the male and female anatomy and introduced clinical terms like “vas deferens” and “fallopian tubes.”

When he finished, I was dumbfounded. I had thought my pee hole to be about the size of a sesame seed and couldn’t fathom how a boy’s penis would fit into it, never mind an infant coming out of it.

Regardless, I felt suitably armed with knowledge and could now confidently assure Haley that I did not, under any uncertain circumstances, hump Ricky Farrell.

On Monday at recess, Haley again told me I humped Ricky every day after school.

“No, I do not,” I said, with utter self-assurance. “He can’t even produce spermatozoa yet and my eggs won’t be released till I’m, like, 12.”

“What are you talking about?” she said. “That’s not what humping is.”

“Yes, it is. My dad told me.”

“You’re stupid,” she snorted, rolling her good eye. “Humping is when a boy puts his weiner in your kitty.”

She spoke down to me like I was an eight-year-old. Of course, I was an eight-year-old, but so was she, so I found her attitude entirely inappropriate. Nevertheless, the bitch trumped me again.

Why the hell didn’t my dad just say that?

Haley didn’t come back to my school the next year, and I never heard from her again. If I had to guess what happened to Haley, I’d surmise she grew up to be a Teen Mom or a stripper. Or perhaps both.

I’ll never forget that girl. My father taught me about the facts of life, but Haley taught me about sex.

***

So, how did YOU learn about the birds and the bees??

Categories: True Story

Tagged as: , ,

46 replies

  1. I don’t remember where our interest in the matter stemmed from, seeing as I went to an all-girls school, and hadn’t given much thought to the existence of boys, or their purpose. My best friend (she still is) and I suddenly became very interested in where babies came from, we realised there was some kind of copulation – something needed to be touched or held together or something, between a man and woman – but we didn’t quite understand the details.
    We were 9 or 10, I think, we were idly discussing the matter with a new girl, when much like in your story, she told us we were ignorant fools. And babies are made when a man puts his ‘pee-pee’ INSIDE a woman’s pee-hole and then pushes it further and further inside!
    This actually scared the hell out of us initially, because imagining anything going IN THERE was just unfathomable to us. And she made it sound like torture, adding that our parents did it. I remember gasping almost. That girl also left school a little later, but I have her on Facebook, she added me some years back. Wonder if she remembers, but it’s all I can think of every time she pops up on my newsfeed!
    I hope her views on sex have improved since!

  2. I never have had the talk and I’m 13. I just learned it from kids at school. now I know about it a lot. my parents still think I don’t know what an orgasm is or anything sexual for that matter. #weirdparents

  3. I learned it in bits and pieces, beginning at about age six. Well, everything I learned at age six was completely wrong, but I wouldn’t know that for a while. At age ten in school, we learned the official version, the one your dad taught you. I’m pretty sure I knew all of the main things by then, but not all of the official terminology until then.

    Now, as to sex for pleasure, I’m still learning that.

  4. I first learned about sex by my ex-best friend. She was a nasty bitch who bullied and used me my whole childhood.

    She used to make barbies have sex while we played when we were like eight . She even humped one.

  5. Yeah well I’m only 14 and I learned about this stuff on my own when I was 5. Yeah I was a wierd kid but I figured this out from first graders and my parents still think I don’t know what an orgasm is or really even a vigina.

      • I was about 6 years old when my parent bout sex toys and showed me how it works with the toys now that Ilook back at it 16 years later that is not the bast way to show me and now the kids know about porn websites wow Icought my 8 year old neice on one and her mother did not care how sad how the world turned out

  6. man, i like just turned 11 and i already know this stuff!! i never had the birds and the bees talk though, only the talk of puberty. i think i spend too much time on the internet……eh who cares

  7. When my mother was given “the talk,” I remember her telling me that my grandma did it while my mother was taking a bath. Apparently it mortified her, and she made sure that she didn’t embarrass me when she went to tell me about the birds and the bees. All I can remember is that I said, “Wait, so that’s the ONLY way you can have a baby?” after she was done. I thought it sounded like the most stupid and gross thing on the planet and I was like surely there has to be ANOTHER way to get pregnant. Haha!

    I also thought that an orgasm was when a man performed oral sex on a woman after getting confused about a scene in American Pie. I think I figured out the correct meaning in 8th grade. Oh boy.

  8. I am 24 and still haven’t “heard” the birds and the bees story. I’m not really sure where I learned this stuff, TV? :-S

  9. Never really had the birds and the bees talk–just heard about my friends getting the talk. Fortunately for my mother, I was an avid reader and she got me a book that explained human sex stuff. I understood the mechanics of it all when I was 7. Unfortunately for my conservative and Mormon grandmother, I read that part of the book to her when she asked what I was reading. But my grandma did correct me in saying penis the right way. XD

    “Do you know what your daughter is reading??!!”
    “What?”
    “She’s reading about penises and vaginas… did you know that?”
    “Oh, yeah. I bought her that book.”

    I would have loved to see my grandma’s face at that moment.

    • You know what, I actually did not know that till I was about 15 — and my friend’s little sister told me. How embarrassing. The whole time I thought there was just one hole down there.

  10. When my dad tried to give me “the talk” about the birds and the bees, all he managed to impart to me were just variations on a single theme: “Boys are evil and will break your heart and, possibly, get you pregnant.” Oh Dad. He had no idea how right he was! 😉

    • Your dad sounds like a wise man. Sadly, my dad didn’t warn me about that. Not that I’d have heeded his warning anyway. Funny how your dad did it too, though, and not your mom. Must be awkward for them to talk to their daughters about such stuff.

      • My mom is definitely a special breed of lady. More importantly, my dad does whatever he tells her, and she told him to give me “the talk” while she went to yell at the phone company. And since then, I’ve been getting the same “talk” every year — just to reiterate that he doesn’t want to think of me as a sexual being. Ever. Even when I pop out his grand-babies.

  11. Here’s to your dad – for at least trying!

    My mom was the same, age-appropriate conversations so I never went without knowledge. And, you know me, I was the one my friends went to for questions, and I always set them straight (no, you cannot get pregnant from a blow job!)

    Of course, this is completely understandable, as my mom works for Planned Parenthood. At a certain age, my friends no longer talked to me, they went to see her! 😀

  12. I read through all of your comments and not ONE truly painful story! Well here you go… I was raised primarily by my mom and step-dad and my step-sis was with us 1/2 time. Because of our little Brady Bunch situation, my step-dad felt obligated to participate in “the talk”. Being the creative people they were, my parents decided to RENT AN INSTRUCTIONAL VIDEO from the local library to tell the tale… a few minutes in, the two little cartoon people in the video stand up from the bathtub and blow the bubbles off each other to show the different “parts” with my step-dad 2 feet away… AWKWARD!!

  13. I mean 18 a little late hu…fingering…your funny, but then again I have know that you were clever as I have been a fan for a while but a little absent due to life happening

  14. Honestly, i didn’t learn about actual sex and fingering until like the 10th grade. I was so focus on cheerleading and not thinking about sex, it was insane. But I’ve heard about sex when I was like 6th grade? My mom didn’t give me the birds and the bees talk until I was EIGHTEEN!

  15. I learned from an older friend if mine, he had Playboy. He said we put it up a girls bum.

    I just couldn’t figure that one out, made no sense. So that turned me off girls for a few more years.

    I’m really glad that were put my face and Weiner now has moved a bit further front.

    Good post SG, thanks for taking me back to a simpler time.

    • LOL, the girls learn about sex from Judy Blume and the boys learn from Playboy. Not a surprise. That probably would’ve turned me off girls for a while, too. Why would I want to put my peen into the place where poop comes out? YUCK!!!

  16. I loved this. I’m trying to remember when I found out about the birds and the bees. I know it wasn’t from my parents. There was no “The Talk” unless you want to count hearing about irresponsibility and consequences… But as for sex, I learned plenty from books (thanks, Judy Blume), other kids and health class. Your dad did a wonderful job.

    I agree with Jordan. After being worn out and used up, Haley probably found God and is converting people as we speak. Perhaps she’s praying about you for knowing so much about sex at age 8. *snort*.

    • Yeah, another Judy Blume fan! What on earth would adolescent girls do without her?? But yeah, my dad is pretty effing cool. But we never, EVER talk about sex anymore. That would be weird.

  17. Oh I wish someone would have told me something…My mother didn’t even tell me about the “special time I would become a woman” and after thinking that I was dieing of the yellow fever because I was nausea and vomiting and felt cramps that I sure was going to kill me…well you can only think about what I thought when the curse came. I would say that I learn from Judy bloom…Thank goodness for the book Are you there God it’s me Margret…I later learned in biology about the birds and the bees…Course I became a Nurse and vowed to never let my son bestow the same fate…But the again I made him pinky swear to always use a condom…poor kid has a nurse for a mother…

    • Oh, yes, I absolutely rounded out my sexual knowledge with the help of Judy Blume. Do girls still read her? It’s probably very tame for them these days, what with 16 and Pregnant all over the airwaves and shiz.

      Let’s hope your kid follows your advice. Pinky swear!

  18. She the type of girl who after living a wild life of sex, drug and rock ‘n roll, around 30 finds Jesus and gets all preachy. Much like those ex-cons on death row. Probably runs a bible study at her house for the other church ladies.

  19. so I’m reading this post lying flat out on my couch with the room spinning like the frickin tea cup ride at Disney and that made me smile for the 1st time all day….very cute! Also made me realise I don’t know how I found out about sex…or even what age I was when I “learnt”. Weird…maybe it’s just instinct? I’ll ask my gf…..

    • Aww, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. I can’t believe you don’t remember when you learned. I thought it was a pivotal moment in everyone’s life. Well, the bright side is, you weren’t humiliated on the playground by a girl with a glass eye. 😉

Leave a comment