I was in the bathroom, getting ready for my shower, when I heard a faint knock on the door. I knew the kids were awake, so I had a good suspicion that it was the Girl, needing to come in and use the potty, which she often does. So I opened the door and let her come in. We were having our usual early morning potty-time conversation: How did you sleep? How are you feeling this morning? Are you excited to go over to Grandma D's today? Things like that.
But then she asked me the dreaded question: "What is that?"
Not sure exactly what to say, I muttered, "Umm, it's just something that Daddy has..."
"Why don't I have that?"
"Well, because daddies and little girls are different."
"Will I have that when I grow up?"
"No, umm, only daddies have that."
"Does Mommy have that?"
"No, Mommy definitely does not have that. OK, time for Daddy to hop in the shower and for you to go get dressed. OK, bye-bye now!"
"But, um, why doesn't Mo....."
That was when I pushed her out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Well, I think I got through that fiasco pretty well. I knew at some point she would ask me what my belly button lint was, and I think that, under the pressure, I handled the situation about as well as can be expected. Don't you?
|If you want to see a lot of really strange photos, google "belly button lint" some time. I didn't think any of them were suitable for a nice family-friendly blog like this, so I censored this one myself. You can thank me later.|