So, I am putting on my makeup, getting ready to go to one of those rowdy, hundred-kid birthday parties and I hear Brian talking to the kids about literal and figurative definitions. I am not sure what they are defining, but there is a dangerous amount of cackling.
As I finish and head up the hall to join them I hear it: dork. Oh, great! I used to use the word all the time, so Diane went to look it up (never acknowledging that the very act of doing so made her a dork) and found it meant whale penis. So, now I know the source of all that cackling. I put on my shoes and begin the lecture.
"OK, kids, so we know that there are some things we can talk about with friends and other things that really need to stay just between you and Daddy, right??"
Brian puts his ankle across his knee, and spreads his arms the length of the love seat and innocently asks, "like what?" We talk, with lots of laughing.
Next I called my girl to help get her ready for the party and told her to sit on her tail. She, of course, must let me know she has no tail. As I am brushing tangles from her hair, I tell the story of my little sister's child hood belief that all boys had tails--and we are back to the penis talk.
I told the story of when my grandpa visited us and fixed our sprinklers. At the dinner table that night he announced in response to the complement of his hard work that he 'worked his tail off.' My sister's already saucer-sized eyes reached their limit to match her gaping mouth. My kids loved the story and we decided to call Aunt Katie and ask her if boys have tails. Bless her for playing along.