Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!!, Random Rage, TMI? Says who!, Yo! It's a girl thing! | Posted on 07-06-2011
Tags: Costco, Gloria Allred, Parent: Wise Austin, Target, Transformer
It took me until I already had two boys and one on the way to figure it out:
There comes a point in every parent’s life when they are backed into such a corner, they are rendered speechless.
For me, it happened in the bathroom at Costco.
There I was, all high on the thrill of buying in bulk (753 rolls of toilet paper and a 25 pound ham? Yes, please!), when my son, then all of three and newly potty trained, announces he has to go. Pregnant, I tell my husband, I’ll take him because I have to go, too. (I have the world’s smallest bladder. Look it up on Wikipedia, you’ll see.)
So he goes to the bathroom, and then I go and I’m pretty much squatting because while Costco sells lovely things in funtasticly large packages, mummy doesn’t sit on no public toilet.
TMI alert: Since I’m pregnant it’s more like I’m standing with my butt protruding back, praying I don’t topple over since my center of gravity is off, and tinkle down my leg. This fear is totally justified as I’m the klutziest person ever to roam planet earth. (Smallest bladder. Klutziest. You can admit it: Right now you’re so wondering what’s up with my husband. I have other fine qualities. I do!)
Anyway, my son is standing there, just watching. Suddenly he pipes up: “Mummy, you stand to pee?”
“Um, well, I guess so…”
“So you have a peanut?”
“No, buddy, Mummy doesn’t have a penis.”
“Well, what do you have then?”
“Mummy, what DO you have then?”
Oy! Is this the world’s smallest cross examiner or what? I guess I’ll have to save for law school and they’ll be no money left for retirement. Forget the fancy assisted living with the bar and the bus trips to the casino. I’ll be bagging groceries and living in his basement when I’m 90—if I’m lucky. Oh please, marry someone kind and compassionate, son!
“Mummy doesn’t have a penis, buddy,” I repeat.
“You have a bum bum…?”
“Yes, I have a bum bum.” (Oh yeah, mummy got back!)
Giggles in the next stall, no doubt from a mother of girls. Yeah? I’ll get the last laugh, honey, when your daughter is 13 and wants to pierce her navel. HA!
“Oh! You go pee pee from your bum bum!”
He’s got me.
But of course, it didn’t end there. It never does.
A few days later, at home (mercifully!) he broaches the subject again.
“Mummy, it’s OK you don’t have a peanut.”
Phew. I had been missing that peanut my whole life. How have I come this far in life without one?
“Yeah, it’s OK, bud.”
“Hey—I know! We can go get you one at the peanut store!”
Hmmm. Should I be worried that my three year old thinks a penis can be purchased, like a Transformer or bubbles or diapers, at the store? What does that say about our materialistic culture, that he thinks anything can be bought on plastic at the local Target? How in the world (cough) did I give him that impression?
“Buddy, it’s OK. Really, I don’t need a penis.”
“Oh…you have something else then?” Lighten up with the cross examination, Gloria Allred! This is above my pay grade!
“What DO you have mummy?”
“Hey Honey,” I call to my husband. “Your son has a question for you!”
Back up, that’s what I’ve got, Buddy.
**A variation of this essay was originally published in Parent: Wise Austin, April 2011. Great mag–check it out!