Nothing to See Here…

Genitals.

I want to talk about genitals.  And I’m a little immature so you’ll have to bare with me.  (Bare with me, get it?)  Let’s face it, I can’t even say duty-free without giggling.  I’m like a 12 year old in a 250 pound body.  With chin hair. 

Oh, I know they all have correct names and, as parents, we’re supposed to teach our kids the correct names so they won’t be embarrassed of them.  Of course, teaching our kids the correct names in order to save them embarrassment could have the opposite effect upon us.  Like, let’s say you’re in a public place and your 4 year old says (loudly) “Mommy, my bagina itches.”  It happens.

I just think there is no way to get out of embarrassment here.

But I don’t even want to talk about kids and genitals and how we label them.  (Although, just that sentence makes me giggle - labeling your genitals, I’m picturing that little hand held label maker where you type in the letters and then crank out the little sticker and remove the backing and voila’!  PENIS.  BREAST A!  BREAST B!)  Labels.  Ha.

Duty-free.

Anyway.  I know all the words.  I know the proper ones and I know the slang terms.  Is there no middle ground?  I mean, if I try to use the slang terms, I feel like I need more tattoos, a hit of Ecstasy, Pamela Anderson’s body, and a filming crew.  It feels very pornish.  “Ew, baby, your #*&@ is so huge.  I want to %@#* it right now, more more give it to me.”  “Pan in for the money shot.  Cut.  Let’s try it again without the giggling this time.”

I just can’t do it with a straight face.

Then again, the other extreme doesn’t work either.  “Darling, your penis is so very erect.  Can you pass the Grey Poupon?” 

So you see the quandary, right?  What does a nice girl do?  A girl who isn’t a nasty dirty little slut AND who isn’t all that proper - what is she meant to call those parts??

You could move into euphemisms, and I think I’ve used a few of them here even.  My very last post refers to a passion potion that is meant to get the battlefield ready for the General’s visit.  How can one stay serious using that sort of language?  Still, it’s a hell of a lot of fun.  I could climb into bed and say “I know it’s late, but I need to have a meeting with the chairman of the board.” or he might say “Before you go to sleep, could you feed and water the Shaggy DA?” 

OK, we don’t really do that but we might start now because I’m really entertaining myself here.

I propose that we avoid calling the male member anything.  That simple.  It really isn’t much different than the issue of the in-laws, right?  A newly married person never quite knows what to call his or her new mother and father-in-law.  Mr. Peterschmit?  Too formal.  Dad?  Too personal.  Albert?  Too casual.  So we avoid calling them by name altogether.  When they aren’t present, they might have special, crude names that get used.  “My mother-in-witch” or maybe “My monster-in-law” to name a few.  When we talk about them to other people, when they’re not around, we can use the formal method.  “Mom, Mrs. Peterschmidt is planning Christmas Eve so we’ll come to your house on Christmas Day.”  In person with the in-laws, you just choose your words very carefully.  “Oh, a tea cozy!  That is so sweet.  And you made it yourself?  Thanks so much, er, you… you nice person you!” 

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I’ve  been remiss in my blogging again, all this busy busy work stuff.  (Me!  Working hard.  Hard at work!) and tonight, I’m heading out to a concert to see Johnette Napolitano, formerly of Concrete Blonde fame.  I love her music and am all excited.  She playing at Blueberry Hill in the Duck Room.  For those of you that are local, you may know it’s quite a cozy forum.  There is an open bar and cocktail waitresses and just an intimate setting to hear music you love. 

Maybe I’ll get all liquored up and when we get home and [wink, wink, nudge, nudge] play a game of Pass the Grey Poupon with my husband.  

I mean, if the chauffeur is up for a really good waxing of the limo, that is.