Monday, June 29, 2009

It Was the Breast of Times...

Let me start by apologizing for the title of today's post. I know there are some who find body part puns childish and/or offensive in nature. If that includes you I recommend you surf away from The Hideaway right now and come back tomorrow. I am not discussing anything overly inappropriate here, but there will be talk of topless nakedness herein...consider yourself warned (No Chris...no pictures. Sorry to disappoint you).

So we were driving over to my dad's today for a dip in the pool. The Peanut (who is now four and a half if you can believe that crazy math) was sitting in her car seat, pontificating as she so often does about the people she sees outside the car window. About two minutes into the journey she spots a young man walking down the road. He is not wearing a shirt, he has it draped over one shoulder in the heat of the day. Caroline begins to yell at this Sunday stroller.

"Hey you BOY! Put your shirt on. I don't wanna see that!" (Now, I know that those of you reading this who do not know The Peanut are thinking this is a piece of exaggerated dialogue. I also know that those of you who do know The Peanut are smiling because you have no difficulty whatsoever imagining her saying this. This is my daughter, no narrative exaggeration necessary.)

Fortunately the windows were up and the young man kept walking on his merry way, unaware that he was being criticized by a preschooler. The wife and I, after choking back laughter, a skill I still suck at as a parent, tried to tell her what she had said was not a nice thing to yell. The boy wasn't hurting anyone and it was hot out so he just wanted to feel a little relief from the heat.

She of course, being The Peanut, more full of a questions than a Jeopardy marathon, demanded to know why it is OK for a boy to walk down the street with no shirt on but it is not OK for a girl.

The Wife and I just looked at each other, parental panic passing between us.

"Uhh," I began. (I really know how to lay on the parental wisdom, don't I?) "That's just the way it is sweetheart."

I knew that answer was not going to fly. It was just a delaying tactic to formulate a more solid response.

I was right.

"Why?" my daughter wanted to know. Her favorite word. "That's not fair." Her favorite phrase.

The Wife, seeing my utter lack of direction as to where to take my response chipped in. "Babe, what do girls have that boys don't have?" (There is a loaded question if ever I have ever heard one.)

The Peanut thought for a second. "Long hair?"

"No, boys can have long hair," The Wife said.

"Freckles?"

"No boys have freckles...daddy has freckles right?"

The Peanut giggled. "Yeah. Ummm...dolls and dresses?"

I excel at making inappropriate jokes that are never as funny as I think they are. "No, some funny kinds of boys have those as well and they use the - OWWW!!"

My joke was cut off by a sharp poke in the ribs from The Wife.

"What do you mean daddy? What do you mean by funny?"

Yeah, I guess I deserved the poke. "Nothing kiddo, daddy was just joking."

With a glare in my direction, The Wife continued. "What do girls have under their shirts that boys don't?"

"Boobies?" (I can always be grateful to my mother for introducing this word into my daughter's vocabulary)

"Yes sweety. Girls keep theirs covered but boys don't have to," said the wife, which was pretty much the defense I had already tried.

"But I don't have boobies," said The Peanut. "See?" And she proceeded to hike her Dora and Boots t-shirt up over her head.

Booby talk with my 4 year old makes me uneasy enough as it is. "Put your shirt down!" I said. "Peanut, that is just the way things are," I continued to spout my fatherly wisdom. "Girls have to keep their shirts on and boys don't always have to."

Should I write a book on fatherly wisdom or what?

The Peanut was still not satisfied. "But why do...LOOK DADDY...A puppy!" Fortuitously a car drove by with a cute golden retriever puppy hanging it's head out of the window. This distraction promptly caused The Peanut to lose interest in the conversation.

We drove on for a minute or so more. As we drove I thought about the question.

"You know," I said to The Wife, "she brings up a good question."

I get nothing but a look from The Wife.

"No, really. Think about it. Why do we have that social norm in place do you think?"

"Are you trying to suggest that women should just walk around topless all the time?" asked The Wife with the verbal equivalent of a double edged sword.

I knew I was not just on shaky ground here, I was on ice as thin as a sheet of paper.

"OF COURSE NOT dear, that would be...uh...silly," I said. She grunted. I didn't get hit so I figured I could continue on for a bit.

"All I meant was why is it that way? Where do you think it came from? If we grew up in a world where everyone was free to walk around as topless as they wanted to be, do you think there would be a big deal about it?"

"No, probably not," she said.

"So it is a fair question then right? Why is it socially acceptable for a man to walk around topless and not a woman?"

She thought about it for a second as we pulled into my dad's driveway. "I guess it is a pretty interesting question."

So I offer it here, on this blog. Be you male or female, why do YOU think it is socially acceptable for a man to be shirtless but not a woman? Or maybe you think it isn't acceptable. Post your opinion in the comments section. Let's make this the breast conversation in the Hideaway yet.

(Yes, I know I used the same unfunny, possibly offensive pun in this post. I figured since most people are born with two that I should do the same...in hindsight it wasn't anywhere near as funny as I wanted it to be. THIS is why I should not stay up so late writing.)


NOVEL UPDATE: Got 681 more words in tonight. Brings the new total to 2.233.