'The Kinda Sutra': Where Do You Think Babies Come From?

Madeline Holler — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 20:58:00 GMT

Remember when you didn't actually know where babies came from? Well, where did you think they came from? One filmmaker asked a bunch of grown-ups-who-now-know-better that question and made a short little film out of it.

So where DID you think babies came from? What do your kids think? What did/do you plan to tell them? Surely we're not still going with the stork story, right?

[via Wired]

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Banned Books Week: Kama Sutra for Kids

Madeline Holler — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 14:00:00 GMT

There we were, my 7-year-old daughter and I, sitting down together to read a Banned! Book! I mean, banned books? Oh, bring it on! I don't "do censorship," I fight it. I chalk up banned book efforts to ignorance and dogmatism and misguided fears of the real world. In fact, the only things I ban in my house -- the only things I censor -- are ignorance, dogmatism and misguided fears of the real world.

So we kept reading. We pointed at pictures! We laughed! We turned the pages.

And for the first half of Babette Cole's frequently banned and/or censored book Mommy Laid An Egg: Or, Where Do Babies Come From?, all I could think was "tame, tame, benign, and tame." What the hell were the bored Christian housewives so upset about when they demanded it be pulled from library shelves, hidden behind the check-out counter and wrapped in brown paper before sending it home for review by a pair of innocent eyes. Then we turned to page 21.

OMG, I blushed.

Let me back up: Mommy Laid an Egg is a picture book that explains how babies are made. No biggie. Two kids' hippie parents decide one day to explain the facts of life. But when they say the little boy and girl were dropped off by a stork, or that they grew in the garden, or were squeezed from a tube of baby paste, well, the wiser-than-them kids step in and sketch out the real deal -- to their parents (who wind up blushing too, I might defensively add).

So we see kid drawings of mom and her boobs, dad and his "seed pods" and an arrow pointing to Mommy's hole where Dad is to insert his "tube." Good information. Love the simple language and images.

Turn the page: it's the book's money shot, the aforementioned page 21. This is clearly the page that earned the book's nickname, "The Kama Sutra for Kids." Four different sketches of Mom and Dad copulating. There's missionary style ... on a skateboard. Then she's on top as they float through the air with helium balloons. We've got upright and bouncing on a Space Hopper. And defying gravity as he rides her while she's standing on her head. They're always smiling! It looks real fun! OK, next page?

Page doesn't turn. Daughter goes quiet. There's just so much to see! My daughter is lingering. Staring and staring and staring at the good times between Mom and Dad.

"Do you have any questions," I ask, in my steadiest ain't no thing voice. No. Clock ticks. Crickets chirp. Cheeks get real hot. I go inward, focusing energy on suppressing an uncomfortable laugh.

Eventually, we move on. There's all the stuff about sperm and egg and babies growing and birthing, blah, blah ... one's mind tends to linger on page 21. So I think to myself, "huh. Do the censor nuts have a point?" Did Babette Cole cross a line?

As I set the book on our coffee table, I see a magazine laying face down. On the back cover is an ad featuring a scantily clad model with her ass in the air and a come hither look on her face. Never noticed that. Next day driving to school, we pass a billboard for a watch or perfume or Hennessey ... something. It features a pre-copulatory couple all entwined and horny-faced. Has that always been there?

Bus stop poster with sexy Gossip Girls. The weekly alternative with the phone sex ads. Should all of this doin'-it be so highly charged and explicitly non-explicit and hot and pouty and glamorous? Or can it be kind of explicitly normal and fun and sometimes have a point besides revenge, power, Swiss watches and a reason to shop couture? I'm thinking since the former is inevitable, the latter should get some air time, too.

So book burners, suck it up and leave Mommy Laid an Egg alone. Naked parents humping on a Space Hopper? Oh, bring it on!

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