From: R.P.
One November afternoon when my daughter was in kindergarten, I picked
her up after school. She bobbed out to the car and crawled into the
back seat.
"What did you do today?" I asked.
She couldn't wait to tell me. "We learned that boys are different from
girls" she chirped. "My teacher told us that boys have a thing the
girls don't," she added.
"Well, yes they do..." I said cautiously.
Then she piped up again. "That's how girls know that boys are boys,"
she said. "They see that thing hanging down and they know that he's a
boy..."
I mentally calculated the distance home. Our five-minute commute
already felt like an hour.
"Did you know that when the boys see a girl they puff up?"
My palms were beginning to sweat. "Um...well..."
I was still searching for something to say, to change the subject, when
she asked, "Why do the girls like boys to have those things?"
Well, I didn't know what to say. I mean, what woman hasn't asked
herself that very same question at least once? "Oh, well...um..." I
stammered.
She didn't wait for my answer. She had her own. "It's cause it moves
when they walk and when girls see that they know they're boys and
that's when they like them. Then the boy sees the girl and he puffs up,
then the girl really knows he likes her too. And then they get married.
And then they get cooked."
That last part confused me a bit, but on the whole I thought she had a
pretty good grasp on things. As soon as we got home she hopped out of
the car, fishing something out of her school bag.
"I drew a picture," she said. "...you want to see?"
I wasn't all that sure I did, but I looked anyway. I had to sit down.
There, all puffed up so to speak, looking mighty attractive for the
ladies, was a crayon drawing of a great big Tom Turkey. His snood, the
thing that hangs down over his beak, the thing that female turkeys find
so irresistible, was magnificent. His tail feathers were standing tall
and proud. She was a little offended that I laughed so hard at her
drawing. I laughed until I cried. But I told her I loved it - and I did
- and she got over her pique. That was the end of that, for her anyway.
But I'm not so lucky. Every year I remember that conversation, and to
be honest I haven't looked at a turkey or a man the same way since.
HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
--
Tamara P Duvall http://t-n-lace.net/
Lexington, Virginia, USA (Formerly of Warsaw, Poland)
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