Tomorrow is Father’s Day, so I couldn’t help but think of how many valuable things I’ve taught my son through the years. I could tell a hundred stories to illustrate my skill in that regard, but instead I’ll just tell one. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.

At some point, every father has to break down and do his most difficult job: tell his son about the facts of life. I remember well when that day came for me.

I knew things had changed quite a bit from the day my big brother Wayne told me the tale while we were mopping the kitchen floor, a few days before I entered West Side Junior High School. I knew I’d better not let Mal go to fourth grade without giving him a head start on what he would hear during recess.

One evening after supper I told Mal we needed to go for a walk. I thought a good way to enter the conversation was by singing a little tune as we walked along.

So I started singing, “Let me telllllll you ‘bout the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and the moon up above, and the thing called LOOOOOVVVE.”

Mal gave me a strange look.

“Dad, please don’t sing out here,” he said, “We’ve got neighbors!”

“OK,” I said, “I was just in a good mood. Oh,” I said, as if a thought had just come to me. “I need to tell you somethin’.”

“What?”

I froze. I couldn’t exactly put all of this into words.

“Well,” I said, cringing, “I just wanted to tell you about … well, you know … did you ever study in school, maybe last year in science, about how the little bees will fly around in the garden and buzz over to the flowers … I’m not sure exactly what they do. But then the birds come along … I’m not exactly sure what the birds do either, but …”

“Dad,” he quipped, “Are you trying to tell me where babies come from?”

I’m glad that I had all my real teeth that evening because I surely would have been picking them up from off the sidewalk if I hadn’t. I turned red and felt beads of sweat start to form on my forehead. I managed to squeak out, “I … I guess that’s what I’m tryin’ … I think so.”

“Aw, Dad, I’ve known all about that a long time. Everybody knows about that. The boys at school always talk about it.”

He went on to explain what all he knew, which was plenty. It covered everything I knew, and a little bit more.

But, still, I felt relieved that I had done my fatherly duty with such eloquence and grace. And I felt proud of my son, too, as we walked and talked along.

As we got near the house, he said,

“Dad, is there anything else you want to teach me?”

“Nah,” I said, “I think you’ve, uh, pretty well got it under control. I’m just glad I was able to help out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” he said, “Maybe we need to have these father-son talks more often.”

“That’d be great,” I said, “We’ll have to do that.”

“Yeah,” he said, “and when we do, maybe I’ll tell you how the birds fit into the picture.”

Readers can contact Steven Bowen at steven.bowen@redoakisd.org.