It’s the most darling thing possible. On checking my blog’s stats today, they reported to me that someone had stumbled onto my site while searching in Google for “how does a boy pee”. Oh, my, the little darling!
What innocence! What bright-eyed wonder! That little girl is a treasure! Playing marbles in the early springtime sun, when she overhears: “Boys don’t pee sitting down, stupid!” This sends her little mind reeling. At home that night, her parents give her a half-hour of supervised “inty-net” time to look at pictures of penny-whistles and moonpies. When mommy goes to change her tampon or something, she secretly sneaks a peek at google, “the grownup page”. She only has time for one question: “how does a boy pee?”
And, unfortunately, for her, she only has time to click on my link, when there were so many more authorities on the manner in which pee comes out a boy’s urethra. Instead, she’s brought into a world where vaginas speak freely, monkeys play pro sports, and mysteries take place in five seconds or less.
Oh, little girl! I never wanted for it to be this way! You should be finding out about the world through My Little Pony, The Popples, and watching a boy’s pee-stream behind the porta-pack.
Oh, sweety! Let’s forget you ever found this vortex of depravity and cynicism. Let your wonder of the phallus blossom and grow until such a time where you are either sick of seeing them or physically unable to accommodate one. Until then, may you continue to ask of the world the dearest questions. And may the answer to those questions be only ones that you can mispronouce in a cute way.
Muse on, my dear! Muse on!