smileytraveler

I don't feel like writing about the bike adventure today, so I'm going to write about one of my favorite things in the world: crazy conversations I have with my best friend. (We're going on 23 years of these conversations, so there's enough to fill up a book. Maybe I should...)

These days, a good majority of the conversations center around the kids. She likes talking about them because she loves them more than anything in this universe. I like hearing about them because I'm a nerd and am fascinated by how humans develop.

I really like how she doesn't beat around the bush with stuff other parents might label “too soon”. When the kids have a question about their body parts, she, let's just say...answers them honestly and thoroughly.

Kind of reminds me of an exchange I had with my mom when I was about three or four. A far cry from what I heard in the homes of my friends parents:

My Little Friends: Mommy? Where do babies come from?

Little Friend's Mommy: Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other, they get married and a baby is made from their love!

So one day I try...

Me: Mommy? Where do babies come from?

My Mom: From an opening between my legs.

Short. Sweet. True. Gotta love nurses.

Your Body is a Wonderland

Maybe it's Portland parenting, or maybe it's that my best friend is also a nurse, but I love the honest answers she gives her kids to perfectly legitimate questions:

(I'm changing everyone's names here to protect the innocent people I love who let me write about them. We'll call best friend's daughter “Crocodile” and her son “Hot Dog”.)

Crocodile: Mommy? What's this?

Crocodile was in the bathtub and pointed to her lady parts.

Best Friend: That's your vagina. All girls have them.

Crocodile: Does Hot Dog have one?

Best Friend: Nope. Boys don't have vaginas. Only girls have vaginas.

Crocodile: Oh, okay.

I don't have kids but I know sibling rivalry is universal and starts early. When one kid realizes the other kid got to have/do something and they didn't, meltdowns ensue.

Sure enough, Crocodile couldn't wait to find Hot Dog and rub in his face the fact that she has a vagina and he doesn't. Hot Dog, of course, has a meltdown, starts crying and runs to Best Friend.

Hot Dog: Mommy?! Crocodile said she has a vagina and I dont! I have one, too, right?

Best Friend: Nope. Only girls have vaginas. Sorry, buddy. You have a penis. All boys have them.

Hot Dog: Does that mean Crocodile doesn't have one?

Best Friend: That's right. She doesn't have one.

This revelation satisfied Hot Dog greatly. He could not wait to torment Crocodile about her shortcomings.

Full of Pride

The other night Best Friend and I we're drinking wine and talking nonsense, like we always do.

Best Friend: Hot dog loves his penis. He just loves it. He loves the fact that Crocodile doesn't have one.

I crack up.

Me: Congratulations, Hot Dog! According to our media, you are now qualified to work at any large corporation in America!

Best Friend: He loves showing it off and teasing her.

Me: Oh, crap. Really? What do you do?

Best Friend: Oh, let's just say, they don't take baths together anymore.

For all the bitching I do about kids, it really is fun to observe them. They exist in an almost primal state I look upon with burning envy.

Before the shame. Before the PC thought police. Before being taught to hate others for having a different outer color. Before imagination dies. Before the world becomes gray, dull, scientific, and robotic. Before money is the only thing that matters.

To exist one day in their shoes would be grand. I could go around bragging about my vagina and how the boys don't have them. Funny how I delight when children do this. And seethe with rage when adults do it.