Talking about the birds (and the bees) can be awkward.
Birds have feathers and pointed beaks, and bees have stripes and sharp stingers. I don’t know much else about these creatures, so it’s awkward to have to talk about them (and pretend that I know more about them than I really do). Once you cover the main bits (birds… with the flying, and bees… also with the flying) there isn’t that much to say.
The other kind of “birds and bees” references the mechanics of sexual intercourse, procreation, love, and relationships… and it can also be super awkward.
My parents never had “the talk” with me. I had to glean information about sex and relationships from movies, television, my older sister, my friends, drunks in the park, etc.
From what I gathered, sex (and subsequent relationships) always started with a woman in a negligée and a man in a smoking jacket, drinking champagne from champagne flutes*, surrounded by scented candles*, with a Barry White soundtrack*. It involved a lot of tongue-kissing* before the gentlemen suggested they move “somewhere more comfortable” (the bedroom)*.
* This has not been my experience.
I was under the (mistaken) impression that a real relationship meant grand romantic gestures (trips to Paris, fur coats, pink motorcycles, etc.) and looking sexy all the time (obviously, I’ve got the looking sexy part down – I’m currently wearing jogging pants – but the grand romantic gestures elude me).
In my experience, a real relationship actually involves checking your partner’s teeth after they’ve eaten spinach, booking them dentist appointments, buying them underwear, getting the car washed, paying the gas bill, and keeping the home fires burning (whatever that means).
In other words, it’s not all Barry White and champagne from France.
And, if it was Barry White and champagne from France all the time, it wouldn’t be as exciting as Barry White and champagne from France some of the time. The special is what makes it special.
And, also, because…. the mundane is kind of special too. Getting into your pajamas as soon as you get home from work, cuddling on the sofa, drinking seasonal ales, watching three episodes of Breaking Bad in a row… that’s also pretty good.
No one tells you that. They don’t make movies about that.
Also, the drunks in the park don’t talk about that (mostly stories about dead dogs).