Parenting is a minefield.
When they’re babies you find yourself speaking earnestly to other young mothers about the quality and quantity of poop.
As they get older you have to say things like, “Are you wearing panties? Let me see. No, you are not wearing panties. Where are your panties? In the fridge. Of course, I should have guessed.”
Or interrupting phone calls from your boss with desperate cries of, “No! Don’t put a goldfish up your little brother’s nose!”
Today, I reached a new level. Son aged 13 is studying (unheard of behavior for him) human reproduction. I was flabbergasted to arrive home to neatly drawn and labelled bits of human anatomy.
So, when The Husband arrived home I burst out with, “Darling, come and see, our son’s drawn the most marvellous penis.”
Not something I’d never imagined coming out of my mouth.