Better Moms make a better world!

January 22, 2010

Men Are from Mars -- Private Parts

by Brian Flannery

The question is going to come up. "Mommy, Daddy, why does brother have a different bottom than sister and I?" By "bottom" she means, y'know, down there.

I certainly never thought about it before but it seems that boys and girls are different. And they notice. Oh, they notice. Even an only child or a family of all boys (or all girls, how horrible) will find out. Something will give it away.

That's when it's time to stop bathing with your kids. In fact, don't go to bathroom around them. In fact, try to get one of those androgynous outfits like that delightful Marilyn Manson comes up with. Bathe each child separately, secretly at different times of the day or at random. Otherwise, you're going to have to talk about it.

What do you say? What do you call it? Boys, "weewee," "peanut," "noodle," "ding dong". Girls, "fanny," "winkie," "front bottom." For both, "monkey," "groin," "peepee" or "P.P." (for "private parts"). I have not made any of these up. I'm sticking with "boy parts" and "girl parts."

It's my personal pet peeve when well-intentioned parents miscall the private parts in an attempt to be proper or scientific. The problem is, the more scientific you get, the more important it is to be precise. Girl parts are particularly prone to mis-classification. Rhymes with "China?" Not according to a doctor. (Truth by consensus, Wikipedia, agrees with the anatomy textbooks on this one, complete with photographs -- WARNING!)

Don't be fooled by the know-it-alls of popular proper-sounding vernacular. Isn't it better to use "silly" unscientific terms than to flagrantly misuse a clearly defined one. Would you tell your physician that your sinuses hurt when you actually only have a black eye?

Next week: "Where do babies come from? Ask your mother. She told you to ask me? Look, if I knew, do you think I would have so many?"


Fellow POPS! will meet tomorrow, Saturday, January 23rd, 11AM at Old
Chicago, Iliff and Buckley. Half hour of unhealthy food and manly, kid-free
conversation.

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