And now for something completely different

I was recently in a good bathroom with one of those high-power air-blower hand dryers, and it occurred to me that I haven't thought about my imaginary penis in a whole long time. And then I almost mentioned it to my new friend, but for once didn't blurt out every ridiculous thought I have as soon as I have it.

Now I cannot remember where I was, which is too bad because I try to make a mental note of every good bathroom in DC. It's not as imperative as it was during pregnancy, but is still super useful information.

And actually, she's not such a new friend at this point, because we've now known each other for nigh on six months. She's rapidly become one of my nearest and dearest. A bosom buddy, in fact. Ahem.

Also, I'm not sure why I censored the penis business, because it's not like she would blink.

The other day we were shopping in Trader Joe's and I got a can of pumpkin and she asked what it was for, and I asked her if she'd ever had a dog, and then she was all, "This isn't going to be one of those 'and then they ate my dog' stories, is it?"

Which, honest to God, happened to a friend of hers in Peace Corps in Mauritania. Got eaten by neighbors.The dog, not the friend.

And I replied, that no, it was actually about anal glands. Since we were in the frozen aisle, which is always quite busy, I said it out the side of my mouth, like one of these old-time movie private investigators.

I don't know why I felt like it was a more subtle way to say it, particularly as she was down the aisle from me so I wasn't exactly whispering.

It wasn't Nick and raisins, but it wasn't far off.

Because pumpkin always makes me think of Gloria, who had to have her anal glands expressed on a regular basis. You could tell because she'd sit down and scoot across the floor. So anyway, the vet had us feed her a little scoop of pumpkin every day to keep things moving.

I think that was after my dad decided that he was going to not follow the "don't try this at home" advice. Which, if you're successful, you only try once before deciding it is well worth the vet money.

Which actually has nothing to do with anything, now that I've said, well, all of it. Except that it's full-on pumpkin season.

Because the whole point of this little tale is that Jordan and I spend a lot of time talking about the things India will be able to do when she's bigger.

She can't talk now, but when she's bigger, she'll be able to talk to him.

She doesn't know how to sit up yet, but when she's bigger, she'll be able to run and play with him.

And so on.

So the other day, I was changing her diaper on the floor, and Jordan said, "Look, Mama! India doesn't have a penis!"

And I said, "No, she doesn't."

He looked her in the face and said very sincerely, "You'll have a penis when you get bigger, India."