Eventually, if you’ve got kids, a discussion of their private parts is going to come up. Whether it’s what to call their own when potty training happens, or how to refer to a sibling’s personal bits, or what Janey says about her vagina at preschool, the talk is inevitable.
Personally, and I’m just gonna put this out there, I’m all for unabashed use of anatomical terms. My son has a pee-nus, and he’ll tell anyone. I realize this approach is not for everyone. That’s not my point.
My trouble arises at work. I have two potty trainers right now, and for the first time in my child-rearing career, the people for whom I work are on a very different page, terminology-wise.
Now, my son is mostly concerned with his own business, and has expressed zero curiosity about Betty’s lack of visible equipment. Betty, on the other hand, is envious that Felix can pee standing up. She was also somewhat surprised that this could be accomplished at all, which leads me to believe that she’s never seen her Dad pee.
Perhaps I’ve been followed into the bathroom by so many toddlers, of both genders, over the years, that I assume every parent/caregiver is so trailed by their offspring or those in their care.
I dodged the question for the moment, falling back on, “That’s just something boys can do.”
Because, you see, I know they wouldn’t appreciate me introducing the word “penis” into her vocabulary, mostly because they refer to her girl parts as her hoo-hah. Yikes.
I am at a loss.