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The Therapy Sessions
Wednesday, July 13, 2005

My son, the pervert

It seemed like a normal day when I arrived at day care to pick up my son.

Sean was sweeping up the floor. This is usually a good sign. (Sean sitting a chair alone with a frown is not a good sign.)

But one of his teachers signaled that she needed to talk to me.

Uh oh. What did he do?

She look at me grimly and talked in a low whisper: while at swimming lessons, Sean told a girl that he wanted to see what was under her panties. The girl complied, pulling down her panties in front of the whole class.

This teacher had been wringing her hands all day apparently. For a second, the teacher seemed to be asking me if this was a common behavior in the Rogers' household.

No, I replied. Pick up lines like that never worked for me. And if I tried that with my wife, she would just laugh (at me, not with me).

The teacher didn't think that was funny.

I have noticed Sean becoming very interested female anatomy. Although he is sometimes uncouth about it, it didn't have me worried. He's a four-year-old boy, and apparently he's not gay (not that there would be anything wrong with it if he was).

Well anyway, I was relieved when the teacher finally broke a smile.

"Kids are curious," she said.

Well, yeah. So are Dads. But we are just more discreet.

Apparently I could learn something from my son in the "pick up line" department.

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