After Henry woke up from his nap today, I dutifully removed his diaper and helped him put his underwear and pants back on.
We went downstairs to rejoin Abby, who patiently awaited my return to our game of concentration. (Side bar: Abby always GENUINELY beats me at concentration. I actually beat her today and she said, “Congratulations on winning, Mommy. Nice job.” Wow. This is one of those moments I want to etch into my brain forever (her great sportsmanship, by the way, not my big win.))
Henry asked for his soy milk. As I got his milk, I watched him repeatedly grab his crotch. Since I’m the mother of a boy, seeing this is not a novelty; he seemed, however, to be doing it more than the usual once-per-minute. And he added an interesting lurch and leg jiggle to his repertoire.
I asked him if he needed to go to the potty.
“No. My penus huwrts, Mommy.”
Ut-oh.
So I pulled up his shirt and intended to pull his pants down to investigate. But I didn’t need to look any further because I was greeted by the head of Henry's penis which was stuck in the elastic of underwear AND his pants.
“Oh, Henry.”
I gently released all his bits and pieces and put them back where they belong. When I finished, Henry looked me square in the eye and said,
“Mommy, you huwrt my penus.”
“I’m so, so, so sorry, sweet boy”, I replied.
“Mommy, I don’t want you to evwer do dat again.”
My stomach hurt from making him hurt—even though I have no idea what it feels like to own a penis, I know from hubby that any foul play really wreaks havoc on a poor guy’s parts. My solemn promise to Henry is that I will try really, really hard to never, ever, ever hurt his sweet bits again.
ps--Another aside. One of my good pals refers to a male's anatomy as "twig and berries". I cannot believe that I never once used her fabulous expression in this posting. A different title then could've been, "How I almost broke Henry's twig."
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
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