I've officially been a Dad for a little over eight months now, and I'm not sure exactly how long you have to be a Dad before the "Oh, yeah...I'm the Dad...I've gotta do this..." moments officially cease, but I now know this for certain - It ain't in a little over eight months.
It was a relatively quiet morning, especially considering the fact that there was no school, and all four of our kids were home, along with the friend who spent the night with Sydney. I was trying to get a little work done on the computer when I heard Elliott say "I'm gonna go practice for T-Ball, can I wear my uniform?", to which I say no, explaining that it has to be clean for his game tonight. There's a slight pause and then he says "Ok, well, what is THIS?". I turn to see him standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but a shirt, (Did I mention Sydney had a friend spend the night?) holding up the athletic supporter and cup his Mother purchased for him last night.
*POW*!!!! Right in the kisser...unsolicited "You're the Dad" moment.
The realization of the fact that I was faced with having to explain nether region protection to a six year old without the benefit of any preparation, be it study, a moment of reflection, or my wife laughing right before he approached me, still did not overshadow the fact that he was standing in my doorway with said nether regions exposed to the world. So I said what I'm certain most fathers this side of Bill Cosby would have.
"SON!, you don't have any pants...I mean, why aren't....go get some pants on, and then I'll tell you...wait! Come back!"
I said "Come Back" because it hit me that, painful as it may have been to admit, he was actually dressed for this discussion. I motion for him to come to me, and he meanders my way, with a thoughtful "Wow, you're still learning this Dad stuff, arentcha?" look, which would have been sweet if he hadn't been scratching his nakedness as he walked.
"Ok", I begin, taking the athletic supporter/cup package from one of his hands, and pulling his other hand away from where this thing's actually going to end up. I took a deep breath and the conversation started out something like this:
"When boys play sports, sometimes accidents happen, and you can get hurt..."
"I know! Yesterday I got hit in the face!"
"Ok, right, but sometimes, you can get hurt in other places. Like, well, where you were just scratching..."
"Right here?"
"Yes, yes...." (pulling his hand away again)
"Now to prevent getting hurt, some sports have you wear pads, like shoulder pads for football, or shin pads for soccer, things like that. Well, boys have an extra piece of protection that they wear." (I hold up the cup)
"Oh, yeah! I know what that's for!!"
At this point, I exhale a little, and begin to relax.
"You do?"
"Yep!", he says, and grabs the cup and puts it on his elbow. "It's a little big..."
**Pow**!!!! Right in the kisser!
"No, son, (Big inhale), it goes right here", I say, pointing to my nether regions.
Silence.
"Ok?", I ask
Open mouth, but...Silence.
I pick up the supporter and say "The cup goes in here"
"And where does that go?"
"You wear it like underwear"
"Stop it Vern!!!" (Elliott's usual response when he thinks I'm messing with him)
"No, really...put it on"
He tries to put it on, but struggles. His first attempt would have positioned the cup in a way that sitting would have been quite uncomfortable, let alone sliding into second. I help him get it on correctly. It's a little big, as most things are with Elliott. Not so big that it affects the correct positioning in the front, but the straps that are supposed to hug his buns are instead flapping in the wind. It doesn't help matters that he's clinching his butt cheeks in and out, in and out. I start to ask why he's doing this, or tell him to stop, but I have learned you gotta choose your battles.
"Now then", I say, and grab the cup. "And this slides down here" and it's supposed to. Honest. It really, really is supposed to.
But it doesn't.
And now I'm struggling.
"You sure it goes there?"
"Yes, Son"
"It's not going..."
"I know, Son, but it does go in...oh, take it back off for a second!"
"What for? Are you sure this works? Hey! I feel my bee-hind (that's the way he says it...) Are you supposed to feel your bee-hind?"
**Pow**!!!! Right in the kisser!!
I help him get the supporter off and put the cup in. He puts it back on and then looks down at it. Then he looks at me like I have 5 heads.
"See? Now you're protected!", I say, and demonstrate this by knocking on the cup as I would a door.
He smiled and I said "So you get it now?" and he shook his head.
He looked down again and then back up at me and gave me a smile.
And so I have graduated from the class of cup and jock instruction, yet another in the long line of classes that I will have to complete in order to get my degree in parenthood. Some of the classes have happy endings and some of them don't.
This one ended with Elliott walking away from me, knocking on his nether regions with both hands, with the two rear straps of his jock floating in the wind.
