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I remember it like it was yesterday. My family was sitting in a church pew while the entire congregation had their heads bowed in prayer. In the celestial silence I heard my 2-year-old son scream.
He was standing on the seat beside me, pointing to his newfound erection, and I couldn’t help but laugh. So did everyone else sitting within earshot of our family. Sacrilegious or not, it was hilarious.
Any parent can attest that when a little boy discovers he has a penis, all social norms go out the door. They will grab, pull and point out their private parts in public with the greatest of enthusiasm. (They also tend to be completely confused when you explain that not everyone has one.)
For every mom who wonders if her son is the only one obsessed with his genitalia, never fear. These 10 hilarious stories prove every boy is the king of his own penis party.
A mom of three shared that her youngest son, just a tad over 2, had recently discovered the joys of being a nudist — along with his ability to water the plants with his penis. She’d just dressed her little one and turned around to talk to me, when he peeled off his clothes and started urinating on the front lawn. “Stop it!” she yelled. His response: “But Mom, I want to pee on everything!”
One mom of two recalled how her 3-year-old, wanting to decorate his penis, wrapped a Jake and the Neverland Pirates Band-Aid around it. She was completely freaked out, which caused him to also panic. Upset, she called her husband, who had absolutely no chill either. She finally calmed down and realized warm, soapy water would solve their sticky problem quickly and painlessly (even though her husband was already on his way home to save his son’s manhood).
A first-time mommy diligently taught her then-1-year-old the correct terminology for his body, including his boy parts. She remembers the first time he used the proper word for his genitalia while sitting in the tub, pulling and stretching himself so vigorously she worried he might seriously do some damage. All fears were cast aside when her son announced, “Mommy! My penis feels great!”
A mom of two remembered the time her young son thought his penis was doing performance art. “He stared at his penis and proudly told me, ‘Look, Ma! He’s dancin’!’”
An aunt and mother shared the time she heard her nephew refer to his privates as a ballpark favorite. “He said his ‘hot dog’ hides in the bath when the water gets cold. My sister and brother-in-law have no idea where that came from!”
A mother of a now fully grown, adult son laughed while sharing her fond memory of his public masturbation on an Amtrak train. “We were headed to San Diego, and I had to tell my son, who was wrist-deep in his own shorts, [that] that sort of thing is totally OK in the privacy of his own bedroom but isn’t appropriate for public display.”
One mom realized her son thought everyone had a penis — or at least needed one. “When our daughter was born, her older brother inquired about why she didn’t have a penis. When we told him she didn’t have one, he said, ‘That’s OK, she’ll grow one when she gets bigger.’”
A mother of two adult sons shared her eldest son’s humorous misunderstanding about peeing on the floor. “When my second son was born in my mother’s spacious bathroom, I sat on the heated tile floor, holding him in my arms. We were surrounded by friends and family who cheered as my newborn peed a nice arc in the air. The next morning, my 3-year-old stood and peed on the living room floor. He seemed bewildered by the lack of comparable enthusiasm by those same adults seated nearby!”
One 3-year-old asked his mom why girls peed out of their butts instead of their dinkles . “He was so confused!” she recalls.
Imagine hearing your son scream, “Mom, it’s growing, it’s growing!” from behind the shower curtain. One mom rushed to see what the commotion was about and found her son standing up with his penis in his hands, with a look of complete shock.
Clearly boys begin their fascination with their penises from an early age, and from what I’ve gathered now that my sons are nearly 16 and 18, that excitement about their genitals never fades away.
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Liza Dezfouli , OZY Author
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The intimate, the harrowing, the sweet, the surprising — the human.
Because there are easier ways to save on Mother’s Day cards.
The author is a writer, performer and visual artist based in Melbourne, Australia.
My marriage is splintering. My baby’s just over a year old and my toddler nearly 3. They wake every single night — my older boy is asthmatic — and I’m the one who gets up to help them. My mother has a loving bond with my boys, and it’s good to have another pair of hands and someone to talk to. The tension between me and my husband escalates daily. He wants sex. I want to sleep for 200 years. He sulks.
It’s late. We’ve had visitors, we’ve been drinking. I’m demented with exhaustion and stress. The baby needs a bottle and the toddler demands a hug. My husband sits on the couch and my mother’s on the floor in front of him. There’s an undercurrent, something unspoken, between them. He’s massaging her shoulders. While I get my sons fed and ready for bed, I can see the massage is becoming something else. My husband and my mother are making out, in front of me, in my living room. Unable to deal with it, I ignore them. I should throw a pot of cold water over them, throw them out of the house and out of my life, but I’m so tired my face is falling off and my bones are crumbling, and this is too outrageous to even acknowledge.
“Fuck ’em,” I think. “They deserve each other.” I take myself off to bed but can’t sleep. I hear the door to the spare room where my mother sleeps open and close. I hear them go in. Eventually, my husband comes into our bedroom.
In the morning my husband goes to work, and my mother and I pretend nothing has happened. This is the way of things in our family: hysterics when the cat’s tail gets caught in the door, but if your 16-year-old son takes off into the night in crisis or your 18-year-old daughter slashes her wrists, we don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen. Ours isn’t the only family like this, but with us the habit of denial runs especially deep.
Later, a friend asked, “Why don’t you have it out with her?” (My husband, by then, long gone .) Impossible — she’s pathologically incapable of assuming responsibility and would resort to attacking, crying or inventing excuses. Occasionally I’ve alluded to that night. Last year she wrote telling me she didn’t have sexual intercourse with my husband, and it was painful and unfair to be “falsely accused.”
It took a lot for me to understand my mother, and even more to forgive her.
When I told her I was writing this essay, she responded, “You do what you want to do. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done, but I can’t go back to change anything.”
Then I got a second letter, begging me not to cut her out of my life, that she would always love me unconditionally. I answered, pointing out that whether or not penetration took place is entirely beside the point, and if I were going to cut her out of my life I would have done so already. One reason I didn’t is that my sons deserve to have a grandmother who adores them, so I chose to protect their relationship with her.
It took a lot for me to understand my mother, and even more to forgive her, but I’ve learned to see her behavior in a wider context. My mother’s been competing with other women all her life — starting with her own mother over her father’s affections, with me over my father, my boyfriends, my husband, and with her friends over any man around. She’s such a flawed bundle of insecurities that she even needed her children to find her sexually attractive, imposing herself on us in ways so murkily inappropriate we were left demolished, muted, unable to form any kind of response.
Such dysfunction, such emotional disconnection, such narcissism speaks of damage that goes very deep. “I can’t remember anything from before the age of 7,” she said once. “What does that tell you?” I asked, but she remained silent.
Yet. My mother is a warm, charming woman with a playful, accommodating nature; as long as you’re not one of her offspring in emotional distress, she’s generous, kind and helpful. And she’s proud of me — even if she’s never known where she stops and where I begin: “I bathe in reflected glory” is a favorite saying of hers.
Despite the things she’s done, she loves me, tainted though that love is. As long as I play happy and keep my pain to myself, we get on famously. I can stay connected to her because I see her clearly. I know what to expect, and, more importantly, what not to. I treasure the good things we retain. But I can never trust her, and love only goes so far without trust.
Buddhism teaches that our parents give us a body, and the rest is up to us. The spiritual teacher Miguel Ruiz established four agreements for a good life, and the second is: “Take nothing personally. People do what they do because of themselves.” The night she slept with my husband, my mother was driven by her ruined child-self, by the unformed, needy part of her that can’t know right from wrong. In healing my life, I’ve drawn on the wisdom and support offered by friends, daily meditation and practicing self-awareness without judgment — quiet noticing, if you will. My mother may never address the traumas she suffered — or those she caused in my life — but I choose compassion over anger, reflection over recrimination.
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"One day I was at the bus stop alone with this supercute guy who I really liked. I thought that he hated me, but boy was I so wrong! Well, we were just standing there getting bored, and before I knew it, he kissed me! I was in total shock and couldn't move or talk until the bus came! That sure was a great way to start off the day!"
"So, there was this girl Emily in my freshman class who was SO conceited. Seriously, she worshipped the ground she walked on. I didn't like her because she's the school slut, but everyone else seemed to think she was so nice. Well, I recently found out that she was addicted to drugs and sex. I felt so bad for not liking her after that."
"I went to the movies with an old friend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's friend. I thought her BF was really hot, and he must have thought I was too because he kept staring at me. Before the movie her BF said he wanted to buy us popcorn, so I went with him. Right before we went back into the theater, we started making out! Right at that moment, my friend walked out the door and saw us. She was so mad and didn't speak to me EVER again. Perhaps we should've picked a more private place to make out!"
"My parents and sister were out of the house one night, so I invited over this boy I had a crush on to watch a movie. There happened to be a thunderstorm that night, so right in the middle of the movie the power went out. I got up to get a flashlight in my closet, and when I got back, I tripped over one of my (many) shoes and landed on the bed right next to him! So we start kissing, you know, just the innocent stuff, but it quickly got steamier! Before we knew it, we heard my sister's car in the driveway, so I had to put on my shirt and he had to get his shoes on and make it to the back door in lightning speed! It was so devious!"
"Once when my parents went away for the weekend, my older sister had to baby-sit. Well, in the middle of night I found her in the pool with her boyfriend making out. It was going pretty far when my parents walked through the door! They asked me where my sister was, and I pointed outside. My mom caught them in the pool, so they never let her baby-sit again!"
"One day I was at my friend's house riding on her sister's skateboard when I crashed into her sister's puzzle. We tried putting it back together but couldn't, so she decided to lie and tell her mom the cat did it. I was totally against it and wanted to tell the truth, but I knew it risked our friendship. So her mom and sister still think the darn cat did it!"
"One day at school my friends and I were playing around with a bottle of Victoria's Secret perfume spray during recess. A few of my friends had the bright idea that I go up and spray the perfume on my crush. Well, I did, but it went right into his eyes. Oh no!!! I could not believe it. He doesn't hate me, but he hasn't been paying much attention to me either — just in case I have another bottle of spray!"
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