You'll Go Blind

The past couple of weeks The Boy has been playing with his balls. "Look!" he'll say, "Boingy, Boingy, Boingy..." jingling them around like loose change. Yup, he's definately a boy.

Tonight he asked P, "What do my balls do?" P called me right away.

"Why do I have to tell him?"

"Because I don't have balls."

Fair enough.

"Son. Your balls are full of things that make you a boy. Girls don't have them, only boys do."

"And don't play with them in public." P offers.

"That's right. You've got a lifetime ahead of you for that."

Okay, I can't believe I just had a discussion with a 3-year old about his balls. I really wasn't expecting to have this talk with The Boy for at least another 10 years, at which time he'd probably learn all he needs to know from the Internet, sparing me from the conversation.

While I think my explanation satisfied him, tomorrow he'll probably walk right up to his daycare worker and exclaim "I have balls. You don't."

Can't wait.