My oldest son is two, and like most kids his age, he’s incredibly inquisitive. He has questions about everything: Why is Oscar so grouchy? Why doesn’t daddy have any hair? Why does the dog lick her own bottom? Why, Mommy? Why? Why?
Most of his questions lately have revolved around boys and girls. Specifically, who is a boy and who is a girl, and their corresponding body parts. Teaching my son about the physical differences between boys and girls is one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I have ever done. He wants to know who has what, why they have what they have, and if anyone has both sets of parts. We’ve also decided to use the real names for those parts, which adds to the hilarity. Since two year olds lack any kind of conversational filter, my son thinks anytime is a good time to talk about genitals. Sometimes during dinner he’ll randomly ask, “Mommy, you got a ‘jina?”
Yes son, yes I do.
Unfortunately, my son also thinks that it’s acceptable to have these discussion with anyone he meets. It’s one thing when it happens in the privacy of our home; it’s quite another when he’s quizzing our pediatrician on whether she has a “pinis” or a “jina.” Try having a conversation with your son’s preschool teacher to explain the new words he’s taught his classmates. Awkward! And let’s not even talk about what happens when he busts out his new vocabulary words on the grandparents. He’s not doing anything wrong, so I can’t really tell him not to talk about it. So instead I turn several shades of red and make my best “Kids say the darndest things!” face.
I know all of this is perfectly normal two year old behavior. And in a way, I am kind of glad he’s excited about learning new things and sharing his knowledge. But at the same time…does he have to be so excited about this particular topic? And so…vocal? Couldn’t he be publicly excited about shapes instead? Colors? The Dark Knight Rises premiere? ANYTHING else?
I know that one day I will miss this stage of life, where he says whatever is on his mind without worrying about the (hilarious) consequences. Our conversations about boy and girl parts are funnier than anything any comedy writer could come up with. Yesterday he asked me if I had a “jina,” and when I said that I did, he told me, “Oh Mommy, that’s so cool! You’re awesome.”
No son, you’re awesome. And even when you’re embarrassing me with public discussion of genitals, you never fail to make me smile.