Joe and I had his 6-year-old daughter Kristen with us as we made the 3-hour night drive up to his house in the mountains. It had been silent in the car for quite some time and we assumed that she was sleeping soundly.
Suddenly a little voice piped up from the back seat.
“You know,” said Kristen, “some women get their vaginas pierced.” She pronounced the word vagina with relish.
I tried to stifle my shock and replied “But that’s very unusual,” in a feeble attempt to reassure her that she didn’t need to worry about this for her future, hoping to spare her an early childhood trauma.
“Yes but some women do get their vaginas pierced.”
“Yes, but it’s very unusual,” I repeated weakly.
She was like a dog with a bone, repeating it like a mantra she had latched onto. “But some women do get their vaginas pierced!”
At this point, Joe whirled his head around and said emphatically, “But you’re never going to do that!”
Kristen solemnly replied, “I’ll try not to, Daddy.”
This is the conversation that took place, verbatim. The names have been changed to protect the precocious.