Tonight as I was getting both the boys undressed for their bath I could smell the “Poo From Hell” and quipped “I think the people in Africa can smell this poo…” to which Master Almost Five added “I think the kids in China can smell his poo Daddy.” Indeed they could have. But that’s not what this is about.
While we were in a jocular mood laughing at the soiled nappy of the little one my mind must have strayed (it can often do that when faced with a stench worse than rotting corpses.” And it was because of my mind being adrift and us being in a joking mood that I totally missed the point of what the big one was saying.
I took Master Two’s nappy off and wiped him down then stood him up to take his top off. At this point his older brother said;
“Daddy, I can see his little Henry.”
“So can I mate.”
“And I have a big Henry.”
“That’s true too. And Daddy has and even bigger….”
As I turned around I could see The Wiggles’ cephalopodic friend Henry the Octopus sitting on the floor of Master Two’s room.
In our house, the penis is the penis, the vagina is a vagina. We call the breasts “boobs” but that’s more used in the rhetoric question my wife has asked of the breastfeeding child, “who wants some boob?” It’s a marketing thing (and it works).
We do not refer to the penis as a Tom, Dick, or Harry, and certainly not a Henry, but since our older one has been at preschool he has picked up termonologies that we don’t use at home so calling his or his brother’s penis a Henry isn’t something that would have surprised me.
But boy was I wrong…