tales from a stay-at-home mom of four boys

Built-in toy

This morning, as I sat in bed nursing my youngest, my oldest came bounding in and hopped into bed with us. When I looked over at him, I caught an eyeful of small balls and penis. I told him to put it away to which he replied, “But Mom, I’m just playing with it.” I told him to take it to his room or put it away.

This is not the first time, I’ve witnessed one of my sons playing with himself. My boys have been playing with their penises since they discovered that they had them. I don’t know though that I’d call what they do playing, so much as abusing. It quickly became their favorite bath time toy, as they’d sit there in the bath tub, smacking the hell out of it. Then they’d pull on it like they were trying to make sure it wasn’t ever going to come off. Once we began potty training my oldest and introduced him to peeing on trees in an emergency, his and his middle brother’s penises suddenly became fire hoses. My oldest son will use his “fire hose” to pee anywhere (see Don’t pee on your brother). The great thing (and not so great thing, when you’re in public) is that they have no shame about it, and I don’t want him to feel shame about it. When one of my boys whips it out, I simply tell them to either put it away or go to their room if they are going to do it because I don’t want to see it.

I guess when you are the mother of three boys, catching an eyeful of tiny toddler penis and balls at an inappropriate time is just an occupational hazard. I’m okay with that as long as I don’t have to catch any eyefuls of that once they get older. So, for that reason, I’ll always make sure to alway knock first.


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