It’s a little after 8 p.m. last Thursday and Mike Ward has taken the stage at Salle André-Mathieu in Laval, and no sexual practice will be left unturned. Mike Ward may have an Anglo name, but his standup routine is in French, and his show Mike Ward S’eXpose is definitely not for the squeamish or the prude. Ward doesn’t beat around the bush and dives in with abandon.

 The court jester of sex comedy doesn’t stray much from his main obsession, riffing on his diabetes as close as he will come to straight stand-up. A few references to more obscure sexual pratices elicit a few questions from my girlfriend but all-in-all the show is funny and the public at Salle André-Mathieu is going along with Ward, hook, line and vibrator. The problem that rises up, as with many Ward jokes, is that a couple sitting in the front row had decided to bring along, to this X-rated comedy show, their 15 and 12-year olds.

Mike Ward’s humour can be quite scatalogical, and if my girlfriend is asking a few questions, lets just say that there were many moments when Ward not only crossed over the line but basically erased it. I have no problem with adults listening to Ward discussing the finer points of fisting and squirting (don’t ask), but I object to 12-year olds coming into contact with extreme humour of this kind. I will not blame Ward personally for this. Ward was quite surprised to see the 12-year-old sitting front and centre, in the first row.

Early in the show Ward singled out the kid, and asked who he was with and even reminded the audience that his show was rated 16-year and over. The ones to blame are the Salle André-Mathieu personnel who let the 12-year-old waltz in, and the parents of this young boy who thought that it was appropriate for their son to see a show of this kind. I can only imagine what type of questions a 12-year-old would ask after listening to a female member of the audience discuss her personal experiences with squirting.

I am not a prude, and when I bought the tickets to Ward’s show, I knew exactly what I was getting into. But I never expected that fairly young teens would be present. The audience was mixed, a bunch of 20-year-olds filled the row behind us and a man who looked like my father was sitting in front of me with his spouse. Both rows laughed heartily at Ward’s jokes, and the sexual entendres (There was no doubles here) were appreciated by every generation. After a few exchanges with Ward the young brothers in the first row were promised tour T-shirts.

As I was leaving I passed next to the souvenir booth and I saw the kids in line waiting for their reward. I couldn’t help but think that the over-sexualization of our teens doesn’t come first from advertising, the media or the internet, but with the sheer recklessness of parents who don’t show any judgment when bringing a young teen to a show like this.