Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The Talk

I never imagined it would be so hard to keep up on this blog, but damn, it's been a minute.  Sorry, y'all.

Miss Chatterbox's new found passion in life is horseback riding.  Being the supportive mom that I am, I was all, "Hell nah, child, we can't afford that. Just looking at the price makes my butt pucker." She was all, "Well fine, I'll go ask PopPop then." And I was all, "Good luck with that, Boo."

Guess who has riding lessons now?  Yup.  Grandpa's a sucker.  Thanks, Dad.

Miss Chatterbox has turned out to be quite the natural.  She's riding a horse named Sonny, who is old and slow, and apparently well endowed.  I have to admit, I envisioned a totally different scenario when it came time for The Talk.  I imagined her and I sitting on the sofa, chatting congenitally over coffee and bonding.  Thanks, Sonny for ruining that dream.  Or hallucination. Whatever.

After the riding portion of her lesson, yesterday, Miss Chatterbox and her trainer were taking all the tack off the horse and giving him a brush down.  Sonny chose this moment to get a pretty impressive

"Momma, what's that?"
"That's Sonny's boy parts.  It's called a penis."
"Penis?  That's a fun word to say. Look it goes in and out. What would happen if I squeeze it?"
"Please don't touch Sonny's penis. Really, don't touch any boys' penises. Ever."
"Really, why? They won't like it?"
"Oh no, its not that, they will probably like it too much.  We just don't walk up to boys and pull on their parts.  It's rude."

Sigh.  This kid.  I'm going to regret this exchange, I just know it.  Just like I regretted the caffeine drunk bee discussion.

I broke off this conversation to be continued at a later date.  Which if I had my way would be 30 years from now and include a chastity belt, but CPS frowns upon locking up your kids' vaginas.

So, I'm gonna do what I always do when I'm in doubt.  Buy a book about it and hope it never comes up again.  

Happy Hump Day!