I was at a loss as to how to respond to such a stupid question. I recall I checked the fence to see if there was a spider or lizard that may have been the subject of her inquiry, but no, she seemed to be pointing to my, as I new it then, Willy. “Willy!” I responded and was lost by the stupidity of this line of questioning. Maybe this was just a name thing. I had struck this before. Parents seem to go to extraordinary lengths to invent ‘home grown’ names for things they had trouble dealing with; so one thing could have ten or more names in the street.
“Where’s mine?” she asked. (Later I was to discover that question is a very female domain, and not restricted to the under five year old demographic!) “Your what?” I naturally replied, still awfully confused. (To this very day, I still become awfully confused under intense questioning by a member of the opposite sex.) “My Willy!” she replied almost angrily. “I dunno.” I responded, accompanied by the almost mandatory shrug of the shoulders. “But I want one!” she started to cry.
By this time, I had completed my assignment, and had replaced all my personal equipment back in my shorts, and was readying to return to the sand pit, where action was aplenty. “Look between you legs.” I said as I started to return to the sand pit. I was thinking how stupid girls were. It was at this point that my life changed. In an instant she had her dress held up and her pants down to reveal, (to my complete and utter astonishment) nothing! I cannot remember if I felt sorry for her, but one thing was clear at that point. She very definitely did not have a Willy! She insisted I look, and I had to admit she was right. There wasn’t even a small one hiding.
An excerpt from : An Uneducated View of Sex, Food and Politics
ISBN/EAN13: 1449509347 / 9781449509347