Weiners, Jergens and Tissues... oh my.

Dear Mason- As proud as I am of you for sharing, your weiner does not eat oatmeal. No, not even blueberry oatmeal. I know… I know… wieners are weird. Mommy totally agrees. Keep it on your spoon. Thanks! You’re a doll… Love Mommy.


There are a few days every parents dread from the first moment that little pink line appears on that $25 dollar piece of fated plastic. Some that top the list? First day at school… getting their license… their wedding day. But for most parents, the number one spot is usually held by, “Where do babies come from?”

THE talk.

Have I mentioned it’s my life ambition to become a sex therapist?

Cause it is. I am beyond fascinated with our most primal of instincts and have been since a very young age. My parents never had THE talk with me. I just knew what happened. (Can a 6th sense be sexual?) I remember driving in the car with my mom and asking her why my cousin was having a baby.

Her reaction?

“Aw shit. (Nice opening, Mom) Well you see daughter- who- is- not –even- in- kindergarten- yet, when a maaaaaaaaaaan loves a whoa-man.”

I remember distinctly rolling my eyes and saying, “Not THAT… I mean because she isn’t married.”

Mom: “Oh. I don’t know. How do you know the other stuff?”

Me: ???? Were there people who DIDN’T know? I think I just ignored her. Which served her right for asking such a dumb question.

So when Macdaddy and I found out we were having a little meathead I called dibs on THE talk. Adam had no problem with that. Although I may have to have Adam in the room. Hell, I may have to have Adam video tape it.

I know most guys have a special bond with their units.

Im smart like that.

However, I was under the impression that this bond happens sometime in their junior high years.

Im dumb like that.

Apparently it is born into males, much like the reflex to high five after a particularly nasty fart, or …

No… that’s it… fart high fives.

Moving on… Mason has always preferred to be nakee. He used to just scream when it was time to get dressed. Then he graduated to removing his clothes while I was in the shower and running outside into the neighborhood. Now he doesn’t wait for me to be in the shower. The kid removes every article of clothing. No biggie, right?

Wrong.

He has also start laying on his bed and screaming, “Go mommy! GO!” If I enter the room.

Egads.

Obviously we are simply ignoring this at the moment… cause he’s two. (And if Adam said anything against it, he would be the worlds biggest hypocrite). So I am going to convince Adam that THE TALK is different than the Wanky Talk.

Cause it totally is.

Totally?

Totally.

AND. Whatthe hell am I suppose to say when I think wieners are ridiculous in the first place? I don’t know how you guys can even walk. I had trouble as it was when fanny packs were in style.