But I don't. I never did.
So, when Tommy (2.5 years old) and I were in the shower yesterday (don't judge me, is the only way I can concurrently maintain my personal hygiene and be certain that he doesn't eat poison), and he pointed to my thigh and said:
Hey mama, you have a BIG leg!
I was okay with it. Totally copacetic.
Yup, that's right I replied, as I rinsed out my shampoo.
But he wasn't finished. He decided to persever, as he often will.
Your leg is BIG, mama!
Um-hmmm, I mumble. I try to tune him out. It is hard.
So big! Your leg is VERY, VERY BIG!
(When he says 'big', his voice gets very deep and throaty. For emphasis.)
Yes, it is, Tommy. Is my leg big? Sometimes if I turn it around into a question, he gets confused and quits.
He ignores my question, and points down to my calf. Mama, down there your leg is little! VERY little. But, up here, it is big. So, SO big. Mama, why your leg so big?
And so it went. Through conditioning, rinsing, exfoliation.
Nobody deserves this sort of harassment.
Tommy, I said in my sweetest voice: Why don't you go find some poison and go play in the street? Mama needs to towel off her huge thighs. It might take awhile.