It was the sort of laugh that means they are up to no good.... The laugh that is not so much a laugh per say, but an evil cackle.... Every Mom in the world knows this sound. While entertaining to the ear, it usually ends up two ways: Either they are up to mischief, or they are up to something totally disgusting. Since I own boys, the later usually applies. So with anticipated fear and curiosity I followed the noise to where I last left my children. I was met with neither mischief nor disgust, but rather something else. Something I, in a million years, thought I wouldn’t have to deal with until at least puberty.
Or in this case, each other!!
Now before you think you have entered the freak zone of this blog let me clarify a few things. No, they were not naked. No, they were not being gross or perverted. They were just “playing”…If you will. Evan was the fondler, and was using his foot. Ryan was lying on his back and laughing. “That Tickles” he kept saying in between the evil cackling.
Dear God Please Help Me…..
Before I knew it words come pouring out of my mouth, and I had no control over the volume.
"GUYS.... WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"
Both boys de-tangled themselves from each other and even though they sensed I was mad proceeded to laugh even harder.
Okay so I knew the day would arrive. The "private area" talk. I really totally swear I knew it was coming. Especially, with Ryan. The child came out of the womb fondling himself.
I begin my approach with a brief pit stop at what I like to call 'Mommy Rationalization.' They are after all just kids... no harm here right? These are the same children who not only pee together but have contests as to whose stream goes the furthest. Yes they have ventured down "there" before and yes it is a thing I am sure all kids do. But Still, I have to say something….
Ryan pulls me out of my current state of shock.
"Hehehehe....Mommy" He begins with a laugh. "That was ticking me!"
Oh the innocence.... the pure innocence.... Think woman think! What to say what to say.
"Guys" I begin (I tend to favor the word guys).
"We need to have a talk about your private areas."
"Our what?" The ask in unison.
"Mommy can we have a snack?"
"No, we need to chat about your penis!"
Why oh why isn't Daddy home for this moment. But no, this falls on me. Just like everything else. Must educate the children pronto!!!
But they are only 5 and 4. Really??? I am at this point already?
I look at the clock. OH BLOODY HELL! Too early for a cocktail. Too late for ignoring what I started. I round up my best serious face and sit down on the floor next to the boys who have shifted expressions from sheer happiness to the onset of boredom.
I try again.
"Guys - " Your private areas are your own business."
"The penis you mean" The five year old offers.
"Yes, that's right, your penis. Okay so now, we don't play with each other’s penis okay. That is private."
“Like your Boobs are Private Mommy?” Once again, the ever informative and observant, 5 year old offers.
“Yes Evan, that’s right. Some things are personal to girls and some things are personal to boys.”
“What about your penis Mommy?” Ryan says.
“No…Yes, I mean I don’t have a….” Sigh….
“What I am trying to say guys is that you and ONLY you are allowed to play with your OWN penis.
Yes, I said it. I did. Play with yourselves dear children. Need a magazine????
And right on cue they crack up again. It’s like they know I am in Hell right now. This so sucks!!
I want to be mad but I can’t find my voice.
So I call my Mom.
"Mom, you won't believe what I caught Evan and Ryan doing?"
"What?" she asks with her ‘my perfect grandchildren could do no wrong’ tone.
"Well, Evan was using his foot and uhh.. stroking Ryan in his privates. And Ryan was laughing.”
"Oh, that is hysterical." My Mom replies perfectly calm like.
"What do you mean hysterical, its weird right?
"Now, honey it's classically kid like. They don't know any better and it feels good.'
"What?!?! Now, it's not a big deal sweetheart really. Why when you and your sister discovered-"
I hang up on her before she can finish her sentence.
Next I call my husband.
"And." he replies unimpressed with the story I laid out for him. Maybe he didn’t hear me right. Maybe he isn't concerned that they were engaged in such activity." So I repeat it again, this time using major graphic descriptions
"Well, they are dudes." Is all he has to offer.
"But shouldn't I engage in some sort of chat here?
"Hey what's for dinner?'
I hang up on him too.
I am alone in my journey. I am. I realized this a few years ago. A house full of penises. Its’ like a circus half the time. I look back towards the boys. They have moved on to their Transformer toys and probably don’t even care anymore.
So I cave in and get over it. Me and my non-penis schlep off in to the other room. Waiting.... Anticipating the next evil cackle that has become both my friend and enemy. Friend because it has saved me from many 'screwdriver in the light socket' moments. Enemy because case in point today, in a split second, they have the nerve to grow up a little bit more.