Daddy is a Boy

There’s not a real good reason I never let Maggie see me naked. At first it was just because I stuck to the general convention that you don’t let people see your privates. Then it became a thing because it was thing, like saying “I love you” or meeting someone’s parents. The longer you don’t do it, the more difficult it is to just do it. (Yup. I just compared seeing my genitals to those important life moments.)

More recently it’s become a hassle. I’ll shower with her in my “shower shorts” and when using the toilet, I have to sit. I’ll pull my pants down and up very quickly after shouting, “Look over there!” After talking to Michelle about it, we decided it was no big deal. Plus we thought it would be better for her to know now when she isn’t going talk about it to all her friends at school and before the age where she recalls memories.

Nothing left to do but hop in the shower.

At first she didn’t notice. *Confidence lowered.* Then she pointed and laughed. *Confidence obliterated. It’s like high school all over again.* Then she started singing “Pop Goes the Weasel.” *Huh?* Eventually she stared at me and refused to get into the shower until Michelle had to shower with her. *Little bit offended.*

So she’s not yet comfortable with the fact that daddy is different than her, but she understands now that boys and girls are different. I guess it’s a start.