I'm Ready for the Series Finale of "The Penis Show"
Thanks to quality dad blogs like this one, I was ready for bath time discoveries and exclamations when we introduced Owen the Boy to our mix of creatures to be bathed in the evenings. But these discoveries and exclamations were private and, for the most part, easily controlled.
What I couldn't be ready for was the public displays of affection our son has for his fancy parts.
A few days ago, a couple from down the street stopped their evening walk to introduce themselves to us, the newbies in our 'hood, and to return the little black and white dog that had been released from our home by her sympathetic warden, our 2-year-old daughter.
Each child talked over his or her siblings, trying to introduce names, ages, and schools:
Maddie: My name's Maddie, and I'm almost 6. I'm going to be in 1st grade this fall, and--
Owen: I'm Owen! I'm 3! I'd like a giant dinosaur that drives a FIRE TRUCK so I can--
Lola: Hi nayber! Hi! Hi nayber!
Maddie: That's Lola. She just turned 2. She's my sister, and Owen is my--
Owen (pulls down his pants): It's time for the PENIS SHOW! Let's dance to the penis show!
I wish this were isolated behavior.
Few nights go by in which he doesn't follow his bath with a type of naked hula hooping maneuvering across his sister's bedroom, but without a hoop. When asked what he's doing, it's always one of two responses: the Penis Show or the Penis Dance. There is always penis. And there is always motion.
Tonight at bath time, he insisted on staying in the tub, even after his sisters were out and clothed, and even after I'd drained all the water. He just sat there with one of those smiles many Southerners would call "shit eatin'." I gave up on talking him out of the tub and started reading with his sisters.
Then, I glanced out the window and saw this:
Me: Owen! What are you doing?
Owen: Daddy, I know you don't like the penis show, so I went outside.
Me: And the leash is for...
Owen: If any dogs come watch the penis show!
This does stop, right? Please?