The destiny of hairy balls

Yes, you read that right. Keep reading. If I do a good enough job of telling this story, your abs and your sides will ache.

A few days ago, I was bathing Daniel. He's suddenly become very interested in all things below the belt. Normal, of course, but I'm just not quite ready to have some of these talks. The boy is just three. Anywho, I'm bathing Daniel and he asks, "What do my balls do?" I was taken a little off guard, and like I said, I'm not ready to have that conversation yet. So I said, "Nothing. Yet. But when you grow up, they'll do something." In an effort to keep things simple, I tend to give him the shortest, most innocuous answer possible. Of course that usually leads to more questions, but I don't want to back myself into a corner if he's not ready to have "that" talk. Much to my dismay, he pressed on. "What will they do when I grow up?" Still unwilling to have that talk, I balked and dodged and spit out the only thing that came to mind. "They'll get hairy." He left it at that.

This morning, we were watching Kung Fu Panda. Po said something about the Sword of Destiny. Daniel did was Daniel does. "What's 'destiny?'" At that exact moment, Lia pooped and Doug came into the living room. I offered Doug the choice - change the diaper or explain "destiny." He chose destiny. So off I go, wipes in hand, to change Lia. "Well, Daniel. Destiny is easy. When you grow up, it's what you were meant to do." I was impressed. Simple explanation for a very abstract idea. Daniel completely blew it out of the water. "Daddy? Do you have balls?" I swallowed a laugh and almost gave myself a hernia in the process. Doug stammered for a moment, entirely dumbfounded, but came clean with, "Yes, Daniel. I have balls." I was hoping to God Daniel would leave it at that, but he went there. "Are your balls hairy?" At this particular point, I nearly died. I know you aren't supposed to laugh when they say things like that, but I just couldn't help it. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And poor Doug. All he could come up with was, "Let's talk about something else."

Because I'm with the child all day every day, I got it. I completely understood the leap from "destiny" to "hairy balls." No one else on the planet could have possibly seen the connection, but clearly, Daniel associates "growing up" with "hairy balls." I can see the shock and horror on his kindergarten teacher's face now. "So, class. What do you think you'll do when you grow up?" Daniel will shoot his hand into the air and wait patiently to be called on. When it's his turn, he'll matter-of-fact say, "I'm going to have hairy balls." We will spend our afternoon being shuffled back and forth between the counselor's office and the principal's office and I'll be labeled as a terrible mother.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'm doing a decent job of explaining the "hard things." I've avoided death like the plague. We have several family members in same-sex relationships. I've tried my darnedest to explain why sometimes we have aunts and uncles and sometimes we have aunts and aunts. I'm not sure whether my explanations are sufficient or just plain confusing. I wonder if I'm setting him up to be tolerant or judgmental. Sometimes I wonder if he's listening to anything I'm saying. This morning he answered that question. He's listening. And even though he might not "get it," he's putting it all together.