Mama's Got Flair

Being the mom of all boys has its rewards, like all the money I’ll save on future weddings and not having to worry about them raiding my closet and not returning my nice clothes, but there are also a few drawbacks.

Most are little things, like not being able to blame an impromptu trip to the salon for a mommy and me pedicure on the little lass, which I can totally deal with. The thing that really stinks about being a mom of boys, especially when married to a guy who’s not as naturally open to uncomfortable conversations as I am, is the long string of sexuality questions I’ve got ahead of me…times three.

I’m adamant about honesty when it comes to sexuality, because I want my boys to be prepared to make informed decisions about that very personal and important area of each of their lives, but it doesn’t make it any easier when they catch me totally off guard…like today.

So, there I was, sitting on the pot, taking care of my business when in strolled Devi, my youngest. As much as I hate the lack of privacy, I’ve grown quite used to it over the last few years, and since they’re all still pretty young, it’s more of an annoyance than cause for mortification.

Usually when Devin walks in he hardly pays any attention to me at all beyond saying, “I love you, too.” This isn’t a sincere proclamation of adoration for me as much as it is a way of buttering me up in the hopes that I won’t give him the boot.

Today, however, his intrusion didn’t exactly play out like most others. Instead of telling me he loved me and going about his business tearing through my hair accessories and catchall container, he stopped stock still, eyes focused on my lap. His adorable elf-like face took on a look of both horror and complete astonishment.

“Aww…crap. Here it comes,” I thought to myself.

Being that he’s the last in my line of mini men, this wasn’t my first rodeo, and I knew exactly what was on his mind. You would think that, since I’m a seasoned veteran and all, I’d have a prepared speech for the inevitable question, but instead, I froze and waited to see just how it would escape his lips.

My oldest is a shoot from the hip kind of guy and asked just as he would about anything else, totally straightforward. “Where’s your wiener?” That was thankfully a simple enough question to answer and afterwards, we both just kept going about the day.

My middle kiddle looked at me, eyes as big as saucers and just yelled, “NO WIENER! AHHH!” After calming him down, I gave him the proper info and think I might have actually…eventually…convinced him that my anatomy was just as it should be, and we didn’t have to file a missing wiener’s report with the po-po.

So, there I was, waiting for Devi to break the silence…which he totally took his time to do. Finally, after assessing the situation, he looked me in the eyes, cocked his head to the side, pointed at my lap and shaking his head in disappointment he asked, “Where is your dipey?”

Thinking I’d dodged a bullet, I quickly finished up while explaining to him that I was a bit past the dipey stage. As I walked over to the sink, he started heading for the door. Before taking his leave, he turned to me one last time, rolled his eyes and said, “You need a wiener,” and walked out the door.

Photo: flickr.com/photos/edenpictures/5223045719