One Day In Canada

Yeah. So this is going to be one of those posts that are ending up here for exactly the reason this blog was started.

Ya with me here?

You may have noticed that I'm not exactly secret. Although the opportunity to be anonymous was graciously afforded me, I opted not to be so. I'm Kim in real life and I'm okay with that.

The story I'm about to tell isn't really appropriate for my own blog because every now and then, my kids or my mother in law or Aunt Jeanette will log onto my site and read my bullshit and then I'm stuck at family gatherings trying to explain myself to puritans and it's never pretty. What they lack in understanding is only surpassed by their profound lack of humor and inability to laugh at human nature. I have lots of human nature and a somewhat twisted sense of humor. People make me laugh. Kids make me laugh even more.

Jesus, with a buildup like this, one would expect something really juicy. This isn't all that juicy, it's cute and odd and funny to me. As such, I am taking advantage of my membership here to get this out of my head and into writing. If you find it funny as well, then great. If not, that's okay too. Christ, I might need prozac.

I have a granddaughter who is five years old. Her name is Ryann. This child is my joy. She is one of the most free spirited, unashamed, brutally honest hambones I have ever seen. She and I have a relationship that is rock solid, so strong and close that it amazes me. It's as if she has always been a part of my life, and this child adores me with her whole heart. She's an old soul, this child. Ryann created a name for me when she was just beginning to talk, that name is "Monga". Monga is a conglomeration of "mom", "grandma", and "nana", all of which were names she heard used in the family. All of my grandchildren now call me that.

I have never raised any of my children with much imposed propriety. There is a lot of public nudity in my house because there are a lot of people in my house. It isn't an issue, never has been, never will be. Tits are tits. Asses are asses. Everyone has them, everyone's seen them. My kids have all been exposed to skin enough times that it's not noticed. If an individual has a need for modesty, its okay for them to have it, nobody notices or gives it a second thought. In our family, the human body is viewed much as a piece of furniture or a pair of shoes or a work of art on the wall is; it's there and it's looked at in the same manner, a fact of life. What has happened because of this mindset is that my kids are unimpressed by nudity, they aren't overly curious about anatomy and they don't pay much attention to it.

Ryann's mother is my daughter Tracy. Tracy was raised with this model and has continued it with her own children, but Ryann's exposure to nudity has only been her little brother and her mom, both hairless creatures at that.

Which brings us to my tale...

We were all in Canada recently to attend the spontaneous and unplanned wedding of my oldest daughter. We all secured rooms in the same lodge and Tracy and I had two that were adjoining. On the morning of the wedding, we had all determined that to heighten the excitement of the impending nuptials, we would segregate the males from the females in the family and not see each other until we all arrived at the chapel. So, the men went off to one large family suite and the women ran off to the other.

As you can imagine, there were a lot of females in one room. Space was limited and girls will be girls, we all had to get dressed, put on makeup and fuss over the bride. There wasn't a lot of thought put into privacy; we are after all, family.

It honestly never occurred to me that I was going to be naked in front of my granddaughter. Being naked in front of my own daughters was no big deal, but the idea of being naked in front of Ryann, well, I never even considered it. I forgot.

So there I was, along with the other seven girls in my family, minding my own business and attempting to get dressed, when out of the corner of my eye, I see my darling Ryann.

The child had the most horrified expression I've ever seen on her face. I watched as she scanned my form then saw her gag slightly and cover her mouth with her hands.

With utter disgust she said, "Monga! You need to shave! That's the most disgusting thing!"

Horrified, I looked to see what it was that had sickened her so terribly and then realized it was my crotch. She had never seen pubic hair before.

So what do you say to a five year old in a matter like this?

Caught off guard and slightly embarrassed I said, "Ryann, not all girls shave that off, I only leave a little bit honey, it's up to the owner."

"The owner? Of what?" she asked me.

This was going from bad to worse.

"Uh, well, you see Ryann, shit. Where's your mother?"

"My mom doesn't have any hair down there Monga" she offered. "You need a haircut I think. Are you sick?"

My ten year old daughter Anna started laughing at this exchange, until she got dragged into it. "Anna doesn't have any down there either," Ryann said, "and neither do I, wanna see?" She started to lift her dress up to show me.

"NO Ryann! No, that's okay; I don't need to see honey." In the back of my mind I knew this was one of those shocking life realization things the kid most likely wouldn't ever forget the rest of her life, I certainly didn't need her to formulate a childhood memory of showing me her cootch too. "Okay Ryann, I'll take care of my problem when we get home, okay?"

"I sure hope so Monga, because that's just sick" she said, "If you need help I can ask my mommy to help you, okay?"

"Okay honey, thank you." I said.

"You're welcome Monga. I sure hope you don't need a shot or something."

I needed a shot alright, but not the kind she was talking about...

I saw Ryann again last night. She was looking at me sideways and finally came up to sit on my lap. "Did you get your hair problem fixed yet Monga?" she asked.

"Yes Ryann, everything is taken care of honey" I assured her.

"Oh thank goodness" she said, "I don't have to worry about it anymore now."

Indeed.