I never went to Gay High School, a mythical place where boys and girls who like boys and girls, in that order, go and learn about how to live in harmony with the same sex.
Sitting in my son’s tiny plastic moulded chair in his classroom on meet the teacher night, I listened to the teachers articulate the curriculum and how in future years the children are taught about sexuality and their bodies.
I thought about what they are going to teach him about sexuality and his body in a reverent Catholic manner. I cringed in my mind, I think my eye winked involuntarily — it’s a pity the cute male teacher wasn’t around.
I imagined floating nuns, wearing black habits and stern faces, teaching kids they will go blind if they touch ‘it’ too much.
I thought about my own sexual education. The full stop after the word ‘education’ sums it up.  I never went to the ‘Where do I come from?’ seminars at school, my dad never talked about anything from the neck down and once I heard my mother talking to my sisters about something ‘..contracts and then the baby is…’ I had nightmares for years.
How do we find out essential knowledge that helps with the little things in gay life? For instance, learning resilience. If you like someone, they always develop thumbtenitis. It’s where they can’t text anything back for days because their thumb becomes emotionally void.
Learning about safety — when you are about to go over to someone’s place, who do you let know to come and look for you in case the person is a crazed homicidal nutbag?
And where is the school which has the sex ed class that teaches men some of the wildest tricks in the universe? Wherever that class is, we have a group of people who desperately need to go.
The ‘I’ve just come out and all my shirts need tailoring’ class. I didn’t realise the extent to which all of my shirts needed darts to suck them in. My tailors made a fortune from me.
I’m sure Beau and Chick will need home schooling from me at the appropriate time, whatever their preference. That is unless the next Pope initiates Vatican III where homosexuality is a class and not an extra-curricular Catholic sport.

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