Yesterday I stood in my bathroom thrusting my hips forward and backward for what seemed a ridiculously long time while my nine year old son stared at me like I had sprouted a beard.
“And that’s humping?” he said.
“And why is it bad?”
And thus was my glimpse at all the awkward conversations to come in the next few years before he shuts me out of his life.
Honor is our Golden Retriever. On many days he is the most loved being in our house. He and Jude are playmates and wrestle and rough house all the time. Recently, Honor has taken to humping Jude. A lot. Very enthusiastic humping.
Even when Jude is standing. Honor will stand on his hind legs behind Jude, wrap his paws around his waist and go at it, with Jude laughing hysterically.
Honor has been neutered. I know it’s a dominance thing. It’s not, you know, humping humping. But still.
“Jude, Honor is humping you. You — you just shouldn’t let him do that.” I know. I’m lame. You try explaining humping to a 9 year old who doesn’t know about sex yet. At least I didn’t say because I said so.
And that’s how I wound up in my bathroom, imitating the dog. More than once. Which is when I also realized I have never stood in front of someone humping away, like a dog.
“It’s not bad, per se. You just shouldn’t let him hump you.” I had now said the same thing, several times. Jude shrugged and walked away, my role as fun killer fulfilled yet again.
Not five minutes later, I walked into the living room and Jude was on his stomach with Honor on top of him, humping away. Both looked giddily happy.
“Mom, I think you’re wrong about humping. It’s just a hug with his butt moving a lot.”
Yes, son. Yes, it is.