My best friend was so proud.
His five year old son had asked the big question.
He had calmly replied,
"Boys have a penis and girls don't."
"So you defined girls by what they don't have?" I said.
"Oh my God, You're right."
The next day he was less proud.
"My son has told the neighborhood
boys have a penis and girls are from China."

I asked my older brother what he was going to say to his kids.
His eyes twinkled.
"The truth. Boys have a wee-wee and girls have a shamey-shame."
He's given me better advice.
He warned me how dad would spring "The Talk" on me.
Dad would get me alone on a long car ride.
I was trapped on the way to a tournament
in Exeter, New Hampshire when he began,
"You do know how boys and girls are different?"

You know how you're suppose to play dead
when threatened by a grizzly bear.
I played dumb,
and maybe I overplayed my hand
because when the talk was over, dad said,
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you can't be this stupid."
I have three kids,
though I don't know
if that answers my dad's question.

My oldest daughter is a great reader of books
so any questions she had I assumed she looked up.
My son quit hockey at 12 years old,
the hint was all his equipment strewn on the front lawn,
so we never had the long trip
to Exeter, New Hampshire to get things explained.
My youngest goes to an Agricultural High School,
majors in horses and cows so she's all set.
Everything there is super-sized.

I am pretty sure they all understand how the plumbing works.
I just try to love their mom as best I can
because it's love that unclogs the drains
and keeps the waters flowing:
healing
cleansing,
quenching,
baptizing,
keeping all things from becoming a shamey-shame.