Yesterday at an Easter party someone made my wife look at their son's penis.
A friend of mine - I forget who - came up with what I thought was a good idea about Easter. It's about all those plastic eggs that your kids accumulate from the various egg hunts they attend. My kids ended up with so many that they have a grocery store bag absolute choc-a-bloc full with them. Knowing that my daughter's enthusiasm for chucking about all over the place hasn't and will not diminish whatsoever now that the Easter Bunny has "gone back underground" (as my daughter put it) I was trying to come up with a nice clean way to get shot of them. Which is where my friend's idea came in. They said they told their kids a neat story that on the night of Easter Sunday the Easter Bunny makes one more visit to your house where he goes on his own egg hunt - finds all the plastic eggs that he hid for you - and gathers them all until next year, Genius! It's a perfect circle!
Of course, I took this information and applied it wrong. I did this by quickly running with glee to where my kids where (clinging to my wife like leeches lest she try and spend time at home without them) and repeating the story of how the Easter Bunny will be coming back tonight to get his eggs - which are definitely are his and will definitely be disappearing for an entire year. I think I then repeated it to make sure they understood and therefore I had a reason to tell them to stop complaining when they did actually disappear. "You said you understood!" I would remind them - thereby winning some sort of moral victory and they would instantly stop being upset about the whole thing. They did vaguely nod and respond that yes- they did understand. But like a moron I took that to mean that yes - they did understand. Where in reality they meant, "why are you talking to us? Mommy is home so now we don't have to pretend to like you anymore."
Then I got ahead of myself and gathered up all the plastic eggs immediately and hid them in a cupboard. I win!! My kids went out in the yard with my wife to plant stuff in the vegetable garden and I sat smugly in front of my computer telling random digital people about how I still can't wear my favorite pair of dark brown jeans because my son has a cold and wipes his nose all over my leg within about five minutes - thereby making it look like I'm spattered in three-day old milk and jizz. Or in short - like Mr. Strange from The Mary Whitehouse Experience.
Twenty minutes later my daughter came back inside and erupted into a violent geyser of whelping tears. I then tried reminding her that - as she well knows - the Easter Bunny comes back and takes his eggs back. While I was saying it realized that not only had I not sold the notion very well, but that I'd not even followed the actual order of things that I had spelled out barely 45 minutes earlier. Ten minutes later she was still sobbing uncontrollably on the couch while my wife looked at me with that, "why did you make her cry by being stupid?" look on her face. A few minutes later and the entire bag of eggs had magically reappeared (or had been very poorly hidden again by the Easter bunny...) on a kitchen chair. My wife then set about making it all more sensible by getting the kids to pick out 5 eggs each that they want to play with - and then explaining that just like Christmas decorations the Easter stuff will all get put away for good at the end of the week. They both nodded with acceptance and understanding and ran off to play egg hunt again. Minus two Dad points for me.
On the other hand my wife's abilities can land her in a spot of bother too. My wife is perceived - quite correctly - by a lot of people as so broadly clever that she should be sought out for advice and confirmation on all sorts of things. She has an air of authority, has academic credentials and that weird ability to intimidate people without really trying and also not seeming like an arsehole at the same time. Hence why my wife - not a medical doctor or pediatrician of any kind - was herded into a bathroom during an Easter party and, "forced" (her words) to give her opinion on a small boy's penis. It's that idea that because my wife knows stuff that other people don't about sciencey-stuff then she probably knows what a willy is supposed to look like. My wife tells me that her response was the rather guilty sounding, "I don't normally look at your son's penis so - I don't know if it looks unusual." I probably should mention at this point that this is not the first time that the very same people have surprised my wife by exposing their son's groin to my wife and asked her to give her opinion on it. Which somewhat makes her statement about not being in a position to comment on it somewhat weaker. It's certainly going to seem like an unrealistic claim at the next event we are at with these people and they drag her rapidly into a closet and to show her his wanger again and ask how she thinks it's looking.
Anyhoo - if you would excuse me - I have to go and see what the Easter Bunny has hidden in the dining room. I wonder what it could be.....