Weenies

I am a modest man. I don't run around the house in my birthday suit, and I take great care not to expose my daughters to anything they don't need to see just yet. Up to this point, only Franklin (the dog) and I had anything to hide in our house, surrounded as we have been by females.

So we were quite surprised when Olivia came running into the room one evening several months ago and announced that she had burned off her weenie.

This, apparently, was the explanation one of her young friends had offered for the appearance of her girl parts. The messages are being sent, of course, whether we are sending them or not.

So, ok, my daughters already knew boys and girls were different, even if their explanation was a bit off-base. But they didn't know what they didn't know - until their brothers' first baths at home.

On Friday night, my wife stripped each boy down, one by one, and bathed them in the kitchen sink. It's a veritable ritual in our family, complete with a staged photo that is staged so as to make it appear spontaneous. Up to this point, however, there had been no audience.

With each bath on Friday, the girls hovered over the sink, pointing and giggling.

"I see his weenie," one would say. "Can I touch his weenie," another asked. "My weenie doesn't look like that," said another. Weenies are now among my young ladies' favorite topics of conversation.

It was funny at first. And then it made me uncomfortable. I wasn't sure what to say to them, so I decided to say nothing at all. And then I decided just to go with it - it was hilarious. How often, after all, do these kinds of discussions take place in normal households?

Plus, as the father of three daughters, I know the day will come when such conversation in my house will not be funny. Not at all.

I grew up with one brother, so this sort of intrigue never dawned on me. And until about three weeks ago, I have raised only daughters, so this sort of intrigue has never been an issue.

Still, it's hard to believe I didn't see this one coming.