only boys

Warning: The following post is not for those who are squeamish about calling body parts by their given names and insist on coming up with cutesy nicknames so as to spare themselves, and their children (I suppose), some kind of embarrassment. For everyone else, read on and enjoy.

I challenge any mother of daughters to come up with a conversation quite as interesting as the one I had with Sean last week following his nightly bath:

[Just a sidenote: when Sean asks a question, his voice raises to an increasingly higher pitch, so by the time he's finished with his question and depending on its length, he may be speaking at an octave five times higher from where he started. Keep that in mind...]
Me: Sean, stop playing with yourself so I can finish drying you off.
S: Mommy, what dat?
Me: That's your penis.
S: My peanuts?
Me: Yes, Sean, your penis.
S: Mommy, why dat my peanuts?
Me: Because that's what makes you a little boy. Little girls don't have one of those.
S: Little girls don't have one of those? [The octave change that accompanied this question gave the implication that he was really asking, "You mean, there are people in this world who don't have one of these?! How do they get by?!"]

No, son, little girls don't have one of those. And mommies of little girls don't get to have conversations like this either.

Chris's only concern was that Sean was calling it his "peanuts" and now if anybody offers Sean some real peanuts...well, that could lead to another interesting conversation altogether.