Sioux Nation

[bagwa-john]

My dad reached a point when I was a senior in high school, that it was 'time for the talk'. He had me come upstairs to his room and close the door. I can't think of this without chortling. He reached into his dresser drawer and tossed a package of rubbers on the bed and asked me if I knew what they were for. I said yes of course, whereupon he replied, 'I guess we're done here'.

They certainly don't print an instruction book which accompanies kids when you pick them up in the hospital.

I told my mom that story last year, and the big question was why he had a package of those things in his drawer in the first place. The most 'obvious' answer was he bought them for me.

yeah, sure.