It was bound to happen. He's a typical man. With typical male immaturity. I guess immaturity also comes with the territory, considering he's only 2.
Smith discovered boobs. Mine, in fact. But this has been a known fact for a few weeks.
"Mommy's BOOBIES!" can be heard echoing through the halls of our new home. I'm not sure how he knew what 'boobie's were. I don't think that I actually taught him that. And I'm pretty sure Kent didn't let that one slip. Obvi. Because he will only refer to them as funbags. Okay, not really. Maybe. Just last night when walking up the stairs to get into the bath, I scooped him up and his hand went straight into my top, cupping my left boob. He doesn't really know any better, I suppose. But it's still... odd.
It's made me a little uncomfortable though. Especially this morning, while in the midst of an epic tantrum because, God forbid, Mommy had to get out of bed and couldn't snuggle any longer to watch Octonauts, I invited Smith into bathroom with me. Since this seemed to be the only remedy to the ear piercing wails coming from this little micro-human.
I disrobed, opened the glass door to the shower and proceeded to step inside. When I caught him. Staring. At my vajingo. Head cocked to the side ever so slightly and a look of bewilderment on his face. I can only imagine the internal dialogue that was going on in his head.... 'What the hell is that thing? Mine doesn't look like that. I. Can't. Stop. Staring at it!" Instead of any words forming, all he could do was point and make a grunt that sounded like a dying turtle.
I suppose I need to start covering that shit up. And my boobs. And correcting him when it borders inappropriate.
Who knew 2 year olds could be such men.