Nothing to do with running. This is about how it's Penis Morning around here.
Finn, my three year old, is on the potty and launches the question:
"Why is my pee pee different than other boys' pee pees?"
Seeing as it's 5:25am, I figure I can get away with fudging.
"Everbody's different," I say, wishing Chris wasn't at the gym. After all, he is the VP of Pee Pee Convesations.
But he's not buying it.
"But it's MY pee pee. It's different than Clifford and Tyler's pee pee's."
The boy's got case studies.
I explain the difference between a circumcised penis and a non-circumcised penis, in terms a three year old can hopefully understand. I mostly use terms like "big circle" and "little circle". And how everybody's different; I throw that one in again for good measure.
Then Chris walks in and answers for himself: You have a Murray penis, that's why, he says with no small amount of pride.
Finn seems happy with that one. A Murray penis, that's why. Like eye color or curly hair, we hand out a particular brand of penis around here, apparently. The boys smile at each other knowingly: the Murray penis, that's right. You can practically smell the testosterone in the air.
Then Reese, my six year old, decides to throw in a curveball when no one's looking:
"I want a sister and don't tell me you're not planning on it."
We're not planning on it, we say. We're not having any more kids, we tell her. We love the two we have and we're very happy, thank you very much.
We try to sell her on a cat, to no avail. According to her, cats might scratch whereas babies are harmless.
Considering the topics we've covered so far, all before 7 am, I decide to leave that one alone.