That low?

I heard a story on the radio yesterday (I would've blogged about it then, but my hectic, action-packed lifestyle, as discussed in my last post, must have driven it from my mind!), which left me somewhere between bemused and exasperated. The gist of the report was that seven out of every ten parents of 11 year olds had needed to discuss 'the facts of life' with their children - as though that was a terrible thing betokening the collapse of civilisation (the internet, that fount of all evil, was blamed). My question would be not why so many had talked to their offspring about the subject, but why not the other 30%? One female vox pop, who seemed to have fallen through a time warp from a 1940's public information film, cut glass vowels and all, grated on my psyche particularly, opining about how she hoped her 10 year old son would still be cuddling his teddy bear and reading Enid Blyton stories rather than asking such questions. That such people still exist in the second decade of the 21st century leaves me looking for a desk that I can bang my head against.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B