As I was in the midst of changing my 1-year-old son’s malodorous diaper, my 8-year-old daughter, Nee, walked in and asked, “What’cha doin’?”
I intended to say, “I’m being poisoned by killer baby poop.” Instead, I said, “I’m changing X’s diaper. Would you care to help?”
“No,” she said. “I can’t change his diaper.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I don’t have a penis.” Of all the things I expected her to say, this was not one of them. After regaining my composure, I asked her how her not having a penis affected her ability to change a diaper.
“I don’t know how to wipe a penis,” she said. “How am I supposed to know when it is clean?”
“You know it’s clean when you’ve wiped away everything.” I said.
“It’s easy for you to tell when it’s clean,” she said “Because you have a penis.” Now this conversation was getting really weird. I figured it was time to redirect the discussion.
“What about Mommy?” I asked. “Mommy doesn’t have a penis and she knows how to change the baby’s diaper.”
“That’s because she’s MOMMY,” Nee responded. Apparently mommies don’t need a penis in order to get things done. I was going to explain to Nee how I, a lowly dad, managed to change her diaper, but I figured it was best to end this conversation.
I finally finished changing the diaper, sent Nee away to pray for repentance, and retreated to my bedroom to induce vomiting. I’m not sure what made me more nauseous – my son’s poopy diaper or discussing penises with my daughter.