What Goes Up
Jordan, my 3-year-old son, has expressed an insatiable curiosity about human anatomy, more
specifically, the male anatomy. This completely innocent curiosity recently led to the
most embarrassing moment of my entire life!
A few weeks ago, our family chose to sit in the front row at Mass on a Sunday (a choice which to this day I cannot justify nor rationalize, and will never again repeat).
During the homily, when the priest was speaking and everyone was *oh so quiet* that you could hear a pin drop, Jordan decided that it would be a good time to examine himself and ask questions which he deemed appropriate. Being 3, Jordan has not learned the difference between whispering and speaking in his normal loud voice, not withstanding the fact that I have spent many hours lecturing him about the proper use of "library voices."
The conversation went like this:
Jordan (loud voice): "Mom, look at my penis, it's standing up!"'
Mom (library voice, whispering, attempting to distract): "That's interesting, dear. Let's read this book I brought for you about how Jesus loves all the little children."
Jordan (even louder voice): "But Mom, I can't get my penis to go back down. It's coming out of my pants! Look, Dad!"
Dad (very stem and serious): "Jordan, be quiet, we're at Mass!"
Jordan (very upset now): "Mom, look at my penis!"
Justine (my 9-year-old daughter, whispering but clearly agitated): "Mom, make him be quiet, take him out!"
Mom (continuing the facade of a calm and collected voice, still whispering and smiling): "Jordan, look at these great blocks Mom brought for you to build with."
Jordan (louder and more insistent): "Mom, why is it sticking up?"
Then, without waiting for an answer (as if I had one), Jordan began talking to his penis.
Jordan (very loud, in a commanding voice): "Penis, go back down where you belong and stop bugging me!"
At this point, I was trying to grab Jordan to take him out, and at the same time cover his mouth. Too late. The damage had been done. I heard chuckling and laughter from the pews around us, and I noticed a distinct break in the priest's homily as he obviously mulled over this very unexpected addition to his sermon.
My daughter was hanging her head and shaking it, and my husband rolled his eyes and mouthed the words "Get him out of here."
My face was three shades of red as I led Jordan out down the long aisle and listened to him continually repeat the same inquiry:
"Mom, why won't it go down?"
(**Sit, Ubu, SIT!**)
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