Testicles

A long time ago when Logan was 3ish, he was standing in the kitchen naked from the waist down. I don't remember the reason for the occasion, but if you know my boys at all, that's not a surprise. He was chitchatting with me and absent-mindedly feeling his parts. He then asked one of the funniest questions in my memory of my kids: "Mommy, what are these stripey things between my legs?" I've heard/read/been told the best way to handle these situations is give correct answers to the exact question a child asks - no more, no less. So I responded that they were testicles. After a minute of thought he asked what they were for, and the best answer I could come up with on the spot was something along the lines of: "When you grow up and decide you want to be a daddy, they'll help you make babies." Fine and dandy. Life went on.

Except.

Somewhere in the course of time, Logan relayed this particular information to Declan. Apparently we played a short game of telephone with it because one day recently Declan told me - out of nowhere - that those ball things between his legs were his babies and when he grows up he's going to have two babies because he has two of those. After dropping the 411 on me, he walked away to continue his life and I was left to consider his (and Logan's) interpretation of the issue. I decided it was best to let them continue with this misinformation since it's not hurting anyone, it's close enough to the truth, and they're too young to really have any sort of talk that will actually explain the facts. We're not ready for details.

Fast forward to tonight after dinner. Logan was adjusting himself and I asked him if there was a problem with his wing ding since he was needing to do that near the table? He said, in a voice *dripping* with know-it-all attitude that a 7-year-old can manage as well as a teenager, "Those things that are my babies? They're sticking to my leg and I'm trying to unstick them."