Certain things are guaranteed to elicit a delightfully embarrassed response from 13-year-old boys. For instance, when George and I kiss and hug, Nick will ask us to stop, which of course makes us kiss and hug more.
He never noticed these lovey acts before. Now, they mean something. And no one wants to think of his or her parents engaging in...something.
Can I just say that embarrassing my son is deeply satisfying? Delightfully satisfying. In a payback, vengeful sort of way. After all, this is the child who gave me stretch marks and took away my intelligence and muscle tone in one, eight-hour labor. A labor that left me scared every time I sneeze, people!
I feel entitled to embarrass him all I want.
So when I said the word tampon in his presence, he said, "Ewwww." And the fun began. At one point, he said, "At least you're not saying the V-word."
And I proceeded to repeat vagina about ten times right at him. Then I threw out some more delightfully anatomical words. "Fallopian tubes, cervix, uuuuuterus!"
That's when George yelled out, "Testicles!"
Nick yelled, "Nooooooo!"
And George and I knew we had won. Oh, yes. We tasted the sweet nectar of victory.
I can't wait for Nick to bring a girlfriend home so I can show her the pictures of Nick wearing a princess dress when he was six. I imagine that will taste of ambrosia and honey. A feast of parental joy!