It's funny, the things that come out of your mouth when you're under duress. The kind of duress that is experienced when you have to tell your best friend that the dye job and cut she just got makes her look like Angelina, when you really want to tell her she looks like Brad, or telling your husband that the 40 or so pounds he's put on look fine with that tight shirt, or, as I recently experienced, trying to explain the purpose of a prophylactic, to a 5 year old. You know, when it comes right down to it, I would take the Spanish Inquisition ANY day, over having to explain that last one, which brings me to today's topic.
In the March issue of Today's Parent, I have the unbelievable good luck of being quoted in a article about lying to your children. It was brilliantly written by the awesome Lisa Van De Geyn, and I think everyone should read it. Like, now. Well, maybe right after you've read my piece here, that is.
In the article, I'm quoted as saying that I told my 5 year old that the condoms he found in my husband's dresser were, in fact, socks. Which I did, mainly. The whole conversation was a little more convoluted than the magazine would have you think, and I would be remiss if I didn't set the record straight. I didn't just come out and say, 'Yes, son, those are little (well, OK, not THAT little - I do have standards), lubricated, rubber socks.' What follows is what I like to think of as a mature, responsible conversation, between a Mother, and a child who really doesn't need to know about those sort of things until he's at least 18...or 40, and finally starts to date. Nice girls. Who are saving themselves for marriage. At any rate, read on.
At this point, we are rearranging furniture after lots, (read: months) of renovating. I'm replacing the books that were in the nightstand, and Riley is "helping". He reaches in and grabs the first thing he sees.
R: "Mom, what are these?"
Me: "Those are breathing strips for Daddy's nose."
R: "What do they do?"
Me: They help Daddy at night so he doesn't snore, and keep Mommy up all night." What I'm really thinking is, they're totally effing useless, because he winds up on his back anyway, and all the strips do is make the snoring sound less like a motor boat, and more like a large, 4-door sedan. You'll know if I'm ever arrested, what it was for.
R: "Oh." Totally uninteresting, and he throws them back in the drawer. He then spots and grabs the large, economy sized box of condoms sitting next to the strips. (What? Tell me you don't buy your condoms in bulk at Costco, and I'll tell you you're paying too much for a couple minutes (well, it might be longer than that) of pleasure.)
R: "Mom, what are THESE?"
Me: "Those are Daddy's as well." You can see at this point how I'm cleverly trying to deflect the topic, in the hopes that he'll drop it. Yeah, I need to stop being so naive.
R: "Are they for his nose too?" At this point, I'm thinking, no, his nose never ventures anywhere NEAR the vicinity for which condoms are required, and then I start thinking that maybe we should discuss that some time soon, and then I'm brought back to reality by my 5 year old, trying to open a wrapper.
Me: "Riley, don't open that. No, they're not for his nose. They're for further down his body."
R: "You mean like for his feet?"
Me: Seizing on a way to get out of this conversation, which, at this point, is right up there on a scale with making small talk to my doctor while he's shoving a speculum up my hoo-hah. DeLIGHTful!
"Yeah bud, they're like socks." And after this point, they're not going to be left lying around, like the rest of the socks in our household. EVER.
R: "Cool! Can I try them on?"
Me: "NO!" At which point, I grab them, toss them back in the drawer, and mumble something about getting to try them on when Daddy's around.
Fortunately for me, my son has the attention span of a gnat, and I was able to lure him away with promises of Kinder Eggs and chocolate milk. What can I say? I'm prepared for emergencies.
And before you get on me for not being truthful to my son about such an important topic, let me assure you, he does know where babies come from, and how they're made. In fact, he laughed at me when I explained the whole process. "Storks... yeah right Mom! That's so silly!" All kidding aside, he does know. In fairly graphic detail. And, one day, probably sooner than later, he'll learn about how to prevent pregnancy as well, and the responsibilities that both adults have when it comes to doing so. I have it all written down, with all the different methods there are, and I'm sure my husband is going to do an AMAZING job of explaining it. Really.
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