Boobies Act II

My honey and I are thinking about a going on a diet. Actually, he's thinking he'll change my mind, and I'm thinking this time next year, I'll be pre-babies-body. We'll see. We've tabled the discussion for now, but in another week I'll bring it up again. And again. And again. Weight loss through Chinese Water Torture might just work. So, we're sitting in the living room in between 'discussions' when my little intuitive (or lucky) child popped in with her opinion:

"We only show our boobies to boys."

This statement, coming out of the blue as it did, kind of took me by surprise, and it ... took me a second to process. Then I swallowed my drink before I could spit it back out again. "What?! No, honey, we don't show our boobies to boys. At all. Never. Ever." She had just got back from an extended stay at Nana's, and I really hope boobies were not the main topic of conversation, because her mixing this shit up will get me some strange looks from my mother-in-law. "Boys can't see boobies. Especially your boobies. Got it?"

"But my brudders see my boobies!" she tells me with absolute seriousness. And I know exactly what she's talking about because the other day when we were in a hurry to get ready and drop the girls at Nana's, I changed her in the living room. Even though the boys were in the kitchen, it evidently made my mini-me nervous. That's a good thing, right?

"Well, but they're you're brothers, and brothers don't really count," I say. Changing her shirt in the living room might not have been the best decision, in retrospect. Note to self: start making her change in the bathroom - if she's old enough to object, she's old enough to change clothes by herself, even though if I'm not right there she'll take a freaking half-hour to change her shorts. *sigh* One more milestone passed on the road to adulthood - self-consciousness. "Just remember, girls don't show boobies." A life lesson to live by, one that I might enforce with death. Oh, not her death, no! I'm not a monster. Yet. "That's why we wear shirts," I tell her.

"But Daddy has boobies," my little shit-stirrer tells me as Daddy is walking by without his shirt. "And peoples see Daddy's boobies." DOH!

So Daddy jumps into the conversation with, "Daddies don't have boobies, only girls, honey." He sounds a little miffed, and I can tell that by the look on his face that it'll be a while before he goes without his shirt, because she's looking at him with a are-you-really-trying-to-sell-me-that-shit look, since we can both clearly see some 'boobage' on Daddy...Oh yeah, we are so starting that diet next week!

"Okay," she tells me, with doubt in her voice.

"And pants, too. Girls always wear pants," Daddy adds for good measure. Quick thinking, Daddy.

"Yes pumpkin, that's why Mommy always wears a shirt and pants," I say. Anything to end this conversation! Where is that proverbial hole in the floor, I need to rest.

"Not always, Mommy. I see your boobies."

"What? When?" I say, thinking frantically, Shit! I thought they were sleeping...you know, I'm reasonably certain this is how Genesis got started. With discovering nudity. And apples.

"In the shower, Mommy."

"Oh, honey," Whew! "Well, showers are to get clean, and clothes get in the way, so everyone showers without clothes."

"Okay. Can I go brush my teeth?"

"Fabulous idea, pumpkin, go ahead!' And as I look at her dad (unobtrusively looking at his 'manboobs' and trying not to get caught) I ask, "You don't think she told your mother that do you?"

"I guess we'll hear about it if she did," he tells me, and goes to get a shirt. Yep, perhaps we should both go on a diet starting to tomorrow... Nothing like getting called out by a 4-year old to jump start your weight-loss regime! Bam!