Four and five-year-olds are obsessed with gentials: Their own, each other's, even the unmentionables of the family cat. I was talking with my mom pals at the playground about this yesterday. My friend Heather told us that she was in the tub with her baby daughter when her son Lucas (Lily's betrothed), came into the bathroom and wanted to hop in with them. Heather's husband told him to wait until the girls were done. Then when it was Lucas's turn to bathe, he climbed into the tub and said, "First the vaginas take a bath, now it's the penises turn!"
Lately my morning shower has gone from peaceful solitary ritual to the naked party starring Mom and Lil. I leave Lily with her smoothie and Elmo for a few minutes to calmly slip into the bathroom. I stand under the warm, soothing stream and drift into my own head, only to be knocked back to reality by the slamming of the toilet lid and the yanking back of the curtain as a skinny, ghost-white nudie pygmy of a girl climbs into the shower with me, pointing at my crotch and asking when I'm planning to shave. Sigh.
In other news, I've been having very bizarre dreams lately. Last night I got a great sleep for the first time in perhaps weeks. This enabled me to drift into deep REM and dream that I was a social activist trying to make a chain of sausage links that stretched around the whole globe. Kind of like a "Hands Across America" but with meat.
I guess I have sausage on the brain.
21 hours ago