Wheaties.

My parents, like Dorothy Mantooth, were saints. Ok, not really, but they were good people. Me, being their oldest child and only girl was not only the apple of their eyes, but their rough draft as well. By the time my two younger brothers were born, they were seasoned professionals in the world of parenting.

Like every single child I too became curious about the opposite sex. I think this began around the time my little brother was born (I was not quite 3 years old) because that was the first time I think I had ever really seen a penis. I do not recall asking my mom or dad about this but I do recall the names they had given a penis and a vagina. These names have stories attached to them that will haunt me forever.

Meany.
Yep, that is what my parents had me refer to a penis as; a meany. I suppose that was a pretty fitting name. I mean my parents wanted me to stay away from bad and mean people and things. Cool, great name guys. The only issue I had with meany, other than being confused by it and pulling on my dad's once like it was a truck driver's horn, was that I thought the cereal Wheaties, was called meanies. I refused to eat Wheaties until I was 6 years old and could read that heinous orange box. Good thing my parents were dorks and collected Wheaties boxes. Those fucking things haunted me. Meanies, Meanies...MEANIES! If they wanted me to stay away from them, why did they keep boxes of them? Good thing I didnt have sleep overs yet, could you imagine if I had to sleep at someone's house and their parents gave me Wheaties for breakfast?? Oye vey, they would have thought I was a freak.

On to the lady part. Oh yes, that crazy thing called a pappy. Fuck yes I said pappy. I have no idea why they thought of this or where it came from. Totally odd. So I was pretty pumped to have a pappy. It was nice and sweet unlike the meany. Here is where the issue with pappy came in.

I remember being at my neighbor Kelly's house when I was about 5 for her birthday party. I was so cute with pigtails and Kelly was my best friend and let me sit next to her during cake. I loved cake, what child didnt? I was just chilling at the table eating cake when Kelly jumped out of her chair and ran over to this man to give him a huge hug and kiss. It was sweet. That was until I realized what she was screaming when she saw him. "Pappy! Pappy! Im so glad youre here Pappy." WHAT THE FUCK? Pappy?!?!?! Holy hell! To this day I dont think I ran as fast as I did that day. I was fucking confused. Why the hell was Kelly referring to that man as her tinkle hole? Boy did my parents have a lot of fucking explaining to do to me. In between their hilarious laughter and tears they managed to tell me that my thing was really a vagina and that Kelly's pappy was her grandpa. I still cringe a little when people refer to their grandfather as pappy. I guess its a good thing I didnt grow up in the south or I am afraid my parents would have scarred me for life with that one.

Lovely experiences.