My five-year-old son has discovered his willy in a BIG way.
“Mummy, look at what my willy can do!”
The ‘look at what it can do’ usually consists of him sitting on the toilet and pulling his tummy in tight until his willy flips up in the air, or holding the end of it and pulling it through his legs to get a girls’ “twinkle”.
This he does while standing in front of a full length mirror. In the nude. Sheesh, I’m not cut out for this.
“Mummy what can I call my willy?”
“What do you mean, what can you call it?”
“I think I’d like to give it a name”
After charting the murky waters of toddlerhood, surviving the Terrible Twos and just about keeping my head above water through the First Days of School, now there is this new stage of mummyhood to navigate.
I’m hoping there are parents out there who are furiously nodding their head in recognition and are keen to share with me here – and maybe make me feel a little less of a social pariah. Please . . . Anyone?
I am fed up with saying: “Leave that damn thing alone!” I’m probably scarring him for life.
We’ve put up with hands rummaging down his trousers for a while now, explaining that it’s something he might want to do when he’s in his own room and not while we’re in a public swimming pool. Or at grandma’s.
But he’s clearly very proud of his manhood. He’s even been known to walk around the house with it poking out above the waistband of his trousers.
I mean, I know it’s great to be a guy and all, but come on!
He gets a bit confused sometimes though.”Why do I even need a willy, mummy? I mean Mia wees OK and she hasn’t got one, so really what’s the point?”
But, if nothing else, he’s heading in the right direction for becoming a full blown man. I had this comment while he was in the bath last night:
“Look at my bulbs mummy! (too cute. I haven’t the heart to correct him just yet). They look like a couple of brains.”
Ah yes, so wise at such a young age . . .