Parentville 04-Sep-2011
Just like his fertility challenged mummy, my son is obsessed with babies and, due to several rather obviously protruding bellies amongst the parents at childcare, there appears to have been extensive discussion of the topic. By discussion (given it occurred between a smallish group of almost two year olds) what I really mean is gesticulating and uttering the odd comprehensible word in the general vicinity of his friend’s fecund families.
Still, it would appear that he is now quite aware that babies spend a considerable amount of time hanging about in their mummy’s belly before they are born, though clearly his understanding of the “birds and bees” pretty much starts and finishes with that. In fact, he appears quite convinced that most women are permanently with child, regardless of any obvious visual evidence.
This has caused his mummy much embarrassment of late as he has announced, with great confidence to both sets of excitable grandparents, that “Mummy has a baby in her tummy”.
Sadly, I do not and disappointing said grandparents with the actual facts has been a trifle upsetting given our ongoing ineptitude in the fecundity department.
There have been some awkward public moments too. Take today for example. My talkative toddler insisted that a guy with a quite splendid beer gut in our local convenience store was, in fact, a girl. Thinking that a quick explanation that the gentleman in question was most definitely a man would suffice was a clear mistake, as he shouted disdainfully, “Not man, mummy! Her has a baby in tummy!”
Apologising swiftly to the shocked pregnant man I fled, planning never to return to that particular establishment, even if it means driving several suburbs out of my way to buy bread and milk. But even that paled into insignificance compared to another of my little man’s bold announcements.
At the recent birthday party of a two year old friend, who for the sake of anonymity we shall call Jenny, he declared that she too had a baby in her tummy. At the ripe old age of two? The floozy!
The comment drew a few awkward giggles and a hasty explanation from his mummy that Jenny most certainly didn’t have a baby in her tummy. But the following dialogue most certainly did have people raising eyebrows.
“Jenny do have baby in her tummy!” declared my boy with utter conviction.
“Well I wonder how it got there?” questioned Jennifer’s daddy, laughingly trying to deflect the conversation.
“My put it there!” boasted my nutty offspring earnestly.
“Yeah!” boomed Jenny’s voice through the ensuing silence (though in all honesty, most probably in reply to an entirely different conversation stream).
“!” said everyone else.
Half expecting little Jenny to start gyrating about singing, “Papa I know you’re going to be upset” with a troupe of two year old backing dancer, I tried digging a hole in the ground to bury myself in. Realising I was standing on concrete and that this wouldn’t be an easy or quick option, I instead apologised to the parents for my mouthy son’s alleged impregnation of their daughter.
The party was soon back on track with more age appropriate playing and squealing and eating of cake but I suddenly found myself ostracised by some of the parents as they had quickly split into two camps. Those humourless folk who glared at me like I was a parental pariah (which surprised me as the comments seemed like an innocent “out of the mouths of babes” moment to me) and those who were still giggling about it an hour later, as was I. And though I’m still a tad red-cheeked, I’m still laughing about it now.
