Friday, August 7, 2009
Give It A Rest
A warning for some of the more sensitive HamannEggs readers. This post is about wee wees. Specifically, Elijah’s wee wee.
Um, he won’t leave his alone.
Yes, we allow him to run around naked 99.9% of the time. And yes, having a wee wee myself, I know wee wees are awesome. But I’m beginning to wonder if this is why he hasn’t gotten into Matchbox cars or army men or plastic dinosaurs. He has the ultimate Matchbox car within arm’s reach at all time.
When we came home from our trip to Colorado, the first thing Diana’s mom said when we saw her was, “Eli sure does like his penis.”
There have been times when he’s watching Curious George and goofing around with his Curious George and I reach my limit and pull his hand away. No, no. I don’t scold him or yell at him. I don’t want him to get a complex over it and eventually turn into an adult with a trench coat collection. It’s more of an experiment to see what will happen.
It’s as if his hand and is wiener are magnetically charged. His little mitt flies right back to where it belongs, no matter how many times I pull his hand away, boing, right back.
No I do realize that this particular post will most likely be the straw that breaks the camel’s back when future Elijah reads this and he will officially hate me for the rest of my life. Son, I love you. Don’t hate me. I don’t make the wee wee news. I just report it.
If it’s any consolation, I was engaged in an in depth conversation with a co worker today about penis-shaped bicycle grips. So the wee wee thing never really goes away.
I also included an unflattering photo of myself with a farmer’s tan. So we’re even.