Too Much Information- The Girl in the Men's Room

If I didn't have children I might have to go out and buy a few if for no other reason than they provide endless amounts of blog fodder. Sometimes I read through old posts about them and find myself laughing hysterically at the things I find.

One of the better collections of these posts can be found at Not Quite a Recap- Let's Talk about Body Parts. Alternatively you can also take a look at I am In Love. There is some crossover between the two, but you are smart enough to figure it out.

Anyhoo, there has been an ongoing discussion with the children about what is appropriate to discuss with others. The few readers who know me well recognize that this is sort of a foreign thing to me. I am not a formal type of guy. I like to take a laid back and easy going approach. That is a fancy way of saying that I am not a prude.

However child rearing requires teaching those rascals many different things so that they have the skills to interact with anyone. So we work with them on manners and try to make sure that they know how to behave like civilized people as opposed to the crazed wild animals they sometimes imitate.

Allow me to provide an example. The dark haired beauty recently accompanied me on a trip to Target. While there I was greeted by the results of seven cups of coffee and had to make a quick trip to the men's room. Initially she was less than happy about this, at five years old she is very clear on which side she thinks she belongs on.

Dad: It is ok to go in with me.
Daughter: No it isn't. I am a girl.

Dad: Yes, I know but you still have to come in.
Daughter: I am not a boy.

Dad: I know, but I have to pee and you can't stand outside by yourself.
Daughter: They'll see me in there and I don't like it.

Dad: So close your eyes while you are inside.
Daughter: I can't. Someone might pee on me.

Dad: Trust me, they won't.
Daughter: Dad, boys don't know how to aim. They pee on the seat.

Dad: I don't and I am not going to use the toilet.
Daughter: You can't go in your pants.

Dad: I am not going to. I am going to use the urinal.
Daughter: Can I use it too?

Dad: No. It is not for girls.
Daughter: That is not fair! I want to use it!

Dad: When you see it you'll understand why you can't use it.
Daughter: Can't you wait until we get home.

Dad: Not this time. We're going in.
Daughter: Ok.

With that we walked inside and I took the lay of the land. Two stalls were occupied so even if I wanted to use them I could not. I headed over to the urinal on the far side and stationed the dark haired beauty next to the sink.

And then this next exchange took place.

Dad: What are you staring at?
Daughter: Nothing.

Dad: You're looking at me.
Daughter: Can't you go to the bathroom and talk. Mom can do it.

Dad: That is good for mom.
Daughter: You can do it too. Take your penis out and pee and talk to me.

In case you are wondering those are words you don't want to hear come from your daughter.

Dad: I can't do it with you staring at me. Count the dots on the ceiling.
Daughter: Why?

Dad: Sigh, because I need to know how many there are.
Daughter: Daddy, someone is pooping. They keep farting and it stinks. I want to leave.

Dad: Shh...We don't need to announce that to everyone.
Daughter: Your penis is bigger than Little Jacks.

Dad: I thought that you are supposed to be counting.
Daughter: Sorry, I forgot.

Moments later we are finished with our bathroom adventure and we head out to finish shopping. We hit the toy section to buy a birthday gift for one of her friends and while we are standing in Barbie heaven she asks me about Ken.

Specifically she wants to know why Ken is missing pieces of his anatomy. It is a reasonable question, but I don't have a reasonable answer, so I punt. I tell her that I just don't know. For a moment or two that seems to hold her, but then she makes life more interesting.

She looks at a woman that works there and asks her why Ken suffered a tragic circumcision. That would be fine, other than she tells the woman that daddy has a penis that she has seen lots of times, so why doesn't Ken.

Good lord, this kid has just managed to make me blush. It is an innocent comment. I don't routinely walk around the house naked, but she has seen me in the birthday suit. It is the kind of question that offers the opportunity to get you in trouble, it shouldn't but...

Somehow I am sure that my parents never worried about this sort of thing. Even if one of us had asked them the question, in that time no one was going to call child protective services. It really caught me off guard. I make a goofy smile and quietly walk away.

During the ride home we have a discussion about what is appropriate to discuss and what isn't. A few hours later she decides to tell her mother and brother about the expedition and what happened. Only she has her version of the story which goes something to the effect of "Daddy says we can't talk about his penis with other people."

Great googly moogly, this girl is determined to make me lose all of my hair. Her mother and I spend the rest of the meal explaining to her and her brother what I really said and what it means. I am fairly certain it worked, but every now and then I wait for the bomb to drop. With the luck I have had lately she'll decide to tell all of her classmates and Officer O'Malley her version of the story.

It is a damn good thing I love her, because otherwise I'd have to scream. I can only imagine what the teenage years will be like.

Hungry Heart

Sometimes this song makes so much sense.

Nobody can say that running 135 miles in the desert is healthy

Now this is the sort of thing that I'd like to say I have done. It is an Ultramarathon through Death Valley. To my mind it is among the ultimate examples of mind over matter. Take a look at these facts from the CNN story:
135 miles through Death Valley, California

Start: 280 feet below sea level
Finish: 8,300 feet on Mount Whitney

Race time limit: 60 hours, 48-hour cut-off to get a belt buckle

Course pavement exceeds 200 degrees F, same temp used to slow cook a pot roast

Dangers: Heat stroke, organ failure, hallucinations, huge blisters, severe dehydration
Some of you will read that and think that the people who do it are crazy and perhaps they are, but there is something about it that really captures my imagination. It is unlikely that I will ever attempt it. Running is not where I excel, or should I say long distance running.

But I am still interested in doing the Ironman. That is a different sort of test of endurance that I think I am better suited for and would be just as proud to finish.

Meteor Shower

I wrote three posts tonight that will probably never see the light of day. Three posts that I decided were so bad that I was unwilling to share them.

Instead of struggling to polish them for production I have decided to take a different route and provide you with some links to some old material and other interesting stuff. Besides, I want to go check out the meteors and get some sleep.

So here are a few random links:
Blog Fatigue
Dennis Wolfberg Clip
The Burning Love (I cringed a bit reading that.)
What I See- Part One
Blessing My Children
What The Hell Happened to Courtesy
Comments On Old Posts, Keywords and More
Man arrested for having sex with dog (This made me cringe for different reasons. Good job Laszlo, for the rest of your life googling your name will yield interesting results. Should be good for dating and your professional life.

Men and women play juvenile games- I play a few of these every now and then.

Have Yad Will Travel- Yahtzee. No correlation between Yahtzee and yad. But read the post anyway.

Badge of Honor- I'd rather a badge of dishonor. Where is Dr. Seuss and his sneetches.

Not Dead Yet

Been a whole slew of crazy things that have happened since I last updated this joint.  It is not an exaggeration to say I am not dead yet, c...