After Larry Potter's nipple conversation last week, I thought we'd both (okay, just me) suffered enough embarrassment for the month.
And then, the next day, he surprised me. He's advanced, you know.
(I will preface this with a general statement: if you happen to know LP in real life or ever meet him, you will NOT talk about this incident. This kid has enough therapy to go through.)
(Though it doesn't stop me from writing about it. It's too funny to keep to myself.)
We were in the bathroom, putting things away in the cabinet in there, and LP asked, "Hey Mom, what are those Playtex things anyway?"
I stood silent, hoping what he said happened in an alternate universe.
"I mean, I've been wondering for awhile what they are."
Nope, same universe. I start to weigh the options of telling him. By the way, this was never a conversation I thought I'd have with my son.
And apparently, it was keeping him up at night.
"Is it something to make you look younger? Is it something to help you lose weight?"
Still trying to formulate my answer, I start laughing at the thought of tampons making you look younger.
I start to answer, "Well, it's something just for women..." and apparently, I start blushing, which kind of pissed me off.
|Causing insomnia of fourth-grade boys since 1972.|
LP, seeing his mother's red face, said in a whisper, "Is it something for your boobs?"
I assured him it was not. I start to stammer over my words, but a conversation I had with my aunt recently rings in my head. I told her I didn't mind telling my kids about sex and body parts and stuff, but I don't want my kids being those kids that inform the rest of their grade about such matters.
And LP definitely has that way about him.
I pulled myself together, "I'll tell you," I start.
"I don't think I want to know," he said. "And don't tell Dad that I asked."
We went downstairs and I pulled Disgruntled Husband aside to tell him what LP asked me. I chalked it up to helping me with a parenting question, as in, "What do I do?"
DH went outside and LP came into the kitchen where I was.
"[LP], I'll tell you what those things are for. Every month a woman isn't pregnant, things....come out....of her...."
He put his hands to his ears.
"I don't want to know anymore!" Followed with, "Does this happen to [Mini Me]?"
I said, no, just adults. I started to explain things further, and he screamed, put his hands up to his ears, and literally fell on the ground like this.
In the midst of all of this, I told him to not tell anyone else about this. Twice.
Not that I think he ever wants to think of this conversation again, but I have to make precautions.
But at least he won't be up at night wondering how tampons make me look younger. Or lose weight.
Both of which are pretty good hypotheses for a nine year old boy.