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The Vagina Dialogues

Early on in my daughter's life, her mother explained her anatomy to her.

All of it...

Though I protested, I don't really have a place in the Family of Women and accepted that my wife's actions were for my daughter's benefit. I, on the other hand, opted to refer to my daughter's nether region as "Middle Parts".

Nowadays, I'm on board. It's good to know my daughter can let us know if she has a UTI. But a new complication emerged. For me, that is. My daughter believes we all have vaginas or as told to me by Blogger's spellcheck, vaginae.

A month ago I was getting dressed and my daughter walked down the hall to traumatize me:

"Ewww, I can see your vagina!"

I immediately looked down at my boxer briefs and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw all was in tact and not out of place.

"No, you can't, baby."

"Yes, I can. I can see it through your panties. I can see your vagina!" She was practically singing at this point.

I sighed heavily and said, "I'm not wearing panties. Boys wear what's called boxer shorts," and weakly mumbled, "I don't have a vagina."

"Uh huh, yes you do!"

This wasn't the first time this has happened. I've actually lost count at this point. I usually stand there looking helpless while my wife (if she's within earshot) laughs until she cries.

So nearly five years into my daughter's life here I am doing what I never anticipated: having a conversation, at least once a week, about my daughter's vagina. And when we're not talking about hers, we're discussing mine. And my panties too.

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