**Explaining the intricacies of boy parts, and girl parts to little girls and little boys is a veritable MINEFIELD. Case in point, the explosive response to a few short lines in Lena Dunham’s book, Not That Kind of Girl.
I’ve occasionally wondered how it’s possible to explain to the little people these mysterious, curious things, and how they should behave with them. e.g. touching them in public, is a no no (touching someone else’s even more so), without turning their little bits into something dirty and sordid and to be kept secret. Because the stock response to any wisdom parents try to impart, is ‘Why?’ And what’s the answer to that?
“Why can’t I look at my best friend’s willy?” Good question.
I’d maybe have gone down the ‘Mum of Lena’ route, and not batted an eyelid or created a fuss, thus avoiding sensationalising whatever had just transpired.
But then, maybe I’d have ended up with endless phone calls from school about poking, prodding and boob-n-bum questions. And suffered the withering glances of the other parents at the school gates, as they whispered, “there she is, the liberal mum who doesn’t tell her kids that everything below the waste is not. To. Be. Mentioned. And DEFINITELY not touched.” In later life, maybe because of my lack of hysteria when the kids were little, my wisecracking son/daughter, would be put through the wringer by the press, a la Dunham. Simply for talking about their innocent, childhood curiosity.
So whatever is a mum to do? Where do you even begin to tip toe through that?
And that is my ‘reasons why I don’t have kids’ #35
*Who knew there’d be so many reasons why I don’t have kids.
**(and sometimes having to explain it to adults too.)