Parenting Win

A while back I decided I would audition for a local production of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues. I've interpreted the play 4 times and directed it once but, having never actually been able to act in a production, I thought I'd give it a go. The auditions started at 6:00 PM and so I had to leave the house right when my husband got home from work, which was unusual for me. As I was gathering my things to head out the door BC asked me where I was going. I'm going to audition for a play, I said. What's the name of the play?, he asked. I paused, briefly.

I have always been adamant that we call body parts by their real names - all body parts. An elbow is an elbow, a chin is a chin, a bottom is a bottom, finger, toe, knee, shin, penis, scrotum, labia, vagina. They all have names and we use them. So in that moment when I paused it wasn't because I didn't want to say the word vagina. It was because I assumed what his next question would be, and I just didn't have the time to get into the political, social, and emotional themes that made up the play. I didn't have the time and, frankly, I would need to think about how, exactly, I would tell my 6 year old what the play was about in an age-appropriate manner. What words would I use? What themes would I include? Which would I exclude and why? All of this, of course, went whirling around in my brain in a few seconds because there he was, staring at me expecting an answer.

What's the name of the play?

I just went ahead and told him. Matter of fact.

It's called The Vagina Monologues. 

Now it was his turn to pause, briefly.

Huh. Mama, what's a monologue?

Parenting win.