So, I was in washing Miss O's hair in one bathroom while Mr. Z was in the other tub, doing that voodoo that he do so well. After I finished, I went in to see how the boy was doing. You know those little hair catchers that you put in the drain of the tub? Kinda like this, but wire mesh:
Well, when I got into the bathroom, he had it perched atop his little shmeckel like a jaunty sombrero. He looked up at me like I had just caught him strangling a kitten. Instinctively, I yelled, "Get that off of there, dude! That things covered in germs!" (meaning the hair catcher, not the shmeckel.)
He instantly complied and I composed myself. I felt bad that I had kinda startled him, so I just threw out the line, "Dude, you have to take care of your penis..." He seemed to be waiting for the thought's completion, so I lamely added, "... so it will take care of you."
What?! I swear, this kid is going to be in therapy for the rest of his goddamn life.
Not surprisingly, he queried, "What does that mean, Dad?" Of course, I had no response except for my standard "fuck-if-I-know" look. Then it seemed to click for him and he continued, "Oh, I get it. Like when I get older and I'm someplace and I REALLY have to pee, or something."
Grateful for an out, I said, "Yep! Exactly!"
I'm such an idiot.
Of course, he couldn't stop there. As he got out of the tub and started drying off, he said, "Dad, what would happen if poop came out of your penis?"
My initial response, obviously, was to do a reflex nose laugh and almost blow snot across the room. Then I seriously considered his question and answered, "Well, let's hope I never have to find out."
Then he dropped his towel and did the naked spazmo dance back to his room.