In a shocking fit of oddness, earlier in the week, Dave and I were both home to parent our children together. Normally, he leaves for work before the kids are up and comes home after they’re in bed, so I’ve gotten pretty accustomed to doing Daily Maintenance of All Things Kidly alone.
On this particular evening, however, Thing One (Ben) was off being Ben somewhere else in the house while Thing Two (Alex) sat in our sink splashing about merrily in a bath. We can’t bathe him every day as he’d like as he has such incredibly sensitive skin that he might molt and lose his skin entirely if I tried, so bath time for him is extra delightful.
Dave and I were both standing within arms reach (read: splashing distance) and talking about something else like the relative deliciousness of encased meats (consensus: Totally Full Of Delicious) when I realized that I was suddenly not being splashed with lukewarm water. I looked over at Alex, who has recently discovered the words both: Yes and No, and saw a familiar sight.
Alex was dingling his dangle, pinching the one-eyed diaper snake, and generally enjoying the hell out of his man-meat. Alex’s penis is his ultimate plaything, and he knows full well what it’s called. “Penis” was, in fact, one of his first words.
So in the name of talking to my child constantly (have a child who spends years in speech therapy and you will totally learn the value of narrating obnoxiously about each and every single fucking thing you do), I conversationally said to him, “Hey Alex, are you playing with your penis?”
To which, I am shockingly UNSHOCKED to say, he replied at full volume, with the biggest ear-to-ear smile I’ve seen on him yet, “YEEEAAAAH!!!!!” It was as happy as I would have sounded if asked if I happened to be looking forward to the new Britney Spears CD and probably 45 times as loud.
My boy, all right. Although Dave is trying to take credit for it, just like he always does.