I suppose the hospital is as good a place as any to have a conversation about biological functions with a four year old.
As we were being discharged from the hospital after my son’s recent surgery, I accompanied him to the bathroom. He grabbed his scrotum, pulled it out from his body to make it more visible, and said, “I think that’s where I store my pee, before I go to the bathroom, mama!”
I should have kept my mouth shut.
“I like that idea, Boo,” I said in my most conversational voice. “That’s a pretty logical thing to think. Do you want to know what that’s for, or do you like your idea?” I didn’t know that part of his body could stretch so far.
Damn. He wanted to know what it was really for. He has been trying to puzzle out how humans have babies for about six months, now. We have some pregnant friends, and one of our best friends is studying to be a midwife, so there’s a fair amount of baby talk going on around him. I think we’ve skirted the issue of how the baby gets planted in there, though he knows his penis is a special part of his body that will help to make a baby when he is a grown up. He knows he will carry little seeds called sperm inside his body to plant inside the eggs a mother’s body carries. I guess it was time to add one more piece to his puzzle. Reluctantly, I told him the truth: “Your scrotum contains special organs that will make sperm when you are older.”
Why was I reluctant to give him this information? Because he loves to share what he knows. In the three weeks since we’ve had that conversation, he has talked to me several times, and has also shown his grandmother and grandfather what that little bit of plumbing is all about. We have had conversations with him, trying to explain that this information really is for bigger boys, so he shouldn’t share it with his classmates. And that it really isn’t necessary–nor is it really a good idea–to actually SHOWwhat part of his body does this wonderful thing. Cause you know, the last thing I need is to get a call from the school about that one.
Kate, I’m sorry. Blame it on the KoE. He started it!
Hey, Melonie! When the docs told me I was going to have a boy, I was beside myself. I didn’t know what on earth to do with a boy. But this has been such a wonderful adventure, I’m so glad he’s here, elastic bits and all. And yes, somehow, they really can stretch their dangly bits from here to the wall like chewing gum and not hurt themselves. I don’t get it.
I lucked out with girls the first couple times – but now I’ve got a boy on the way and I’m scared of moments just like these. EEEK! And to think I have already survived my daughter’s many questions about breasts (and the time she used them to practice her counting in the middle of Borders, at the top of her lungs…”MOMMA! YOU HAVE ONE, TWO, TWOOOOOOOOO BREASTSES!!!!”).
Somehow you’ve given me a good glimpse of what the future may hold with Little Man as well. Thanks.
I think.
Keep up the great work.
Cristina, the KoE is doing so well. Recovering from surgery took him all of a week, and it was hard. but one morning he woke up and all was well. Thanks for asking!
So I meant to ask. How is the King doing since the surgery? Has the lack of tonsils/adenoids improved his sleeping, etc? I hope so, of course.
You and your boy start verbal epidemics.
Right after you had your “It’s OK, Mummy. It was just a fart!” we had one in the shopping mall parking lot.
It’s just a matter of time until scrotum scenes start unfolding everywhere.