"I asked you the other night if you knew what humping involved but you claimed I asked out of turn and you never answered me. So, do you know?"
She whispered. "Yes."
"Tell me. Answer, then you can ask another question."
She covered her face with her hands. "The woman lays there in the dark and the man pushes his thing inside her. He like humps a few times and rolls off."
God, I thought. This girl needs a lot of work. "What does she do?" I asked, holding back a smile.
"Pretends she likes it, I guess." She stopped. "No fair! You asked two questions! It's my turn."
"You're catching on. Go to it. I'm all ears. Are you asking if your father and I . . . hump?"
"I guess," she whispered. "But you don't have to answer. You can do the cop out thing you mentioned."
"I don't have to cop out. I'll tell you. Yes, we still 'hump' but it's nothing like you described." My daughter pulled away from me, opened mouthed. "There's a better term for it too; It's called 'making love'. We snuggle together and hold each other and get very, very close. We get as close as two people can; with the most private parts of us joined together."
She put her hands to her ears. "Stop it!"
"Why? You asked."
"I didn't think you'd answer!"
"I did answer, honestly. Your father and I are married. We make love."
"You do that? Why? Because Daddy makes you do it?"
"God, no! We do it, because it feels really, really nice. When you're in love with someone, it's a wonderful feeling. It's difficult to understand until you get older, and get those feelings yourself. It's very personal and we both enjoy it very much."
"How come you told me?"
"I told you because you asked." I pulled her closer. "You think you know all about 'humping,' right?"
"Of course," she answered, muffled against me.
"I'm going to tell you anyway. Consider it a refresher course." I proceeded to explain the entire process in detail, using correct terms but holding nothing back. She wouldn't look at me but she didn't stop my discourse. It took nearly twenty minutes. "Does that answer your question?" I said when I finished. She murmured yes. "Is there anything else you want to know?"
"Mary Ellen's not a virgin anymore," she blurted out. "She did it with a guy who has a car."
I was pleased by her candor but not the news. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" I could tell by her quick reaction I'd spoken too soon, putting my foot in my mouth again.