I'm not quite sure how to start this. The beginning is probably a good place to start, but, it's just so...awkward. Oh, I guess I should let those of you who have a sensitivity to
TMI that this may be one of those blog entries that you don't want to read. I'm pretty much an open book, but not everyone is like that, so if you are at all offended by the mention of genitalia, don't continue to read. But, then again, if the title to this blog entry didn't tip you off, you're not going to listen to me anyway. So...here goes...
As I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the shower late this morning, I heard a young voice say, in a very alarmed tone, "Mama, where's your penis????" (oh look, there's a question I never thought I would have to
answer, let alone
hear!) My first instinct was to grab a towel, cover my nakedness, and remind my older son (aged 5) to
KNOCK, PLEASE, and then just ignore his inquiry as to my absentee male appendage. I
did not want to have this conversation right now.
You see, every time my elder son learns a new word, he makes a song out of it. If it doesn't get much of a reaction, he moves on, but if it warrants a response ("Jack, please don't sing about butts at the dinner table/Church/to your grandmother over the phone!") it could go on for months. When he learned the word "penis" he made sure to tell everyone at Church he had one. *sigh* So, rather than explain to him how girls are different from boys (and risk having him walk up to every little girl at Church and ask to see their princess parts for comparison, or worse, regale them in song with every word he can think of that rhymes with vagina), I decided to pretend I hadn't heard him ask.
I should have known better. Jack is just like me in so many ways, and one of those ways in which we are alike is that when we ask a question, we expect, nay,
demand a response. I could have said,"I don't know", but then he would have initiated a search and rescue mission the likes of which the world has never seen in order to reunite his dear mother with her tragically misplaced penis. I can see it now, out playing with his friends he would tell one of their mothers, "My mommy's penis is missing. Have you seen it?", and at Church "Um, you know, Father, my Mom lost her penis. Pray that she finds it soon. I'm afraid she won't be able to pee"...and word would spread like wildfire throughout the state that Jack's Mommy was some sort of sexually deviant freak. Oh Lord...I really had no choice but to answer the question. Our little exchange went something like this:
"I don't have one." Trying to sound matter of fact and make this as boring as possible.
"You
DON'T??!" He sounded incredulous.
"
Erm...no." I was hoping this would be the end of it.
"Where did it go?" No such luck.
"Nowhere. I never had one."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a girl."
"Well, my friend Katie (changed the name to protect the innocent) has one."
"No, honey, she doesn't."
"Why?"
"Because she's a girl, too."
"Oh. (Insert awkward pause here) Mom?"
"uh-huh?"
"How does she pee?" Oh, Jesus, save me!
"Girls have parts that help them to pee."
"How do they pee without a penis?"
"Girls have different parts from boys, but they can still pee."
"Okay...um, Mom?"
"Yes, sweetheart?" I am really getting uncomfortable, here. Where's something shiny to wave around when you need it??
"What parts do they have?"
Aw, damn! I thought I had dodged a bullet, but apparently I was mistaken. *sigh*
"Girls have what is called a vagina."
"That's a silly word!" He giggles, and goes downstairs to play with his cars. End conversation. I let out the breath that I hadn't realized I was unconsciously holding throughout this exchange. I'm seriously lucky I didn't pass out.
So there are no lyrics for "Ode to the Vagina" yet, but I'll keep you all posted.
Yeah...once again, I don't really have a scripture reference for this one. If you can think of one, don't tell me, I don't want to know!
