Yesterday Derek took The Boy with him to the doctor’s office for his semi-annual skin check and then then off to give his final exam.
The man has lost his mind.
Apparently all went well at the doctor’s office because the doctor’s children had the audacity to move away with the grandchildren and the doctor didn’t seem to mind when The Boy insisted on checking out every single mole on his father’s body with the $3,000 scope. Whatever. I’m not sure if that is supposed to increase our payment to the insurance company since he could have broken the scope or to decrease it since a 3-year-old gave his father a clean bill of health from cancer in lieu of the specialist with 50 years experience.
They had some down time so they went to the Natural History Museum and then it was off to school to administer the final exam. Apparently the hot college girls plied him with candy but he was unable to help them cheat since he didn’t understand economics or the law. Which makes him qualified to head up the bailout.
When they got home, The Boy was already asleep but I could see that his father had something to get off his chest.
D: I bought The Boy a book about the human body today at the Natural History museum today.
K: That’s great. He needs one. I heard you hit a wall in the shower the other day when you ran out of bone names.
D: Well….there’s something else. He started to discuss how a baby comes out of a woman’s vag1na to be born as we were walking down the road.
K: I’m sorry?????
D: Well….I read the book to him. Maybe I should just show it to you.
The book was only 12 pages long and it had some kickass organ magnets. I flipped to the page where the woman was GIVING BIRTH. If you were wondering what page it was on, it was directly across of the page describing, in detail, male and female reproductive organs.
K: You didn’t happen to explain s–e–x while you were at it, did you? Because that’s information that I’m sure the kids at preschool will love to hear about tomorrow.
D: NO, I didn’t.
K: I was just wondering.
So we are going to be THOSE people. The people whose kid tells the rest of the kids about babies and vag1nas while riding on the tricycles at the preschool.
The Boy greeted me morning with the words, “Mom, did you know that a baby comes out of a woman’s vag1na?
Yes. Yes, I did. Technically, mine, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could redirect it to someone else’s vag? And thanks for bringing up that downer that pregnant women everywhere are trying to ignore. I didn’t add the bowling-ball-through-the-hole-the-size-of-the-sharpie analogy. I’ll save that for later. Now I have to go into Santa-overdrive. No use blowing birthing and the Santa myth all in the same year.