Anatomically correct

Yes, boys and girls. We have definitely reached that age.

The age where the differences are greater than "Princesses are smelly and stinky!" (from one 3-year-old in Lizzy's class. Lizzy's response: "No! Princesses are smelly and YUMMY!")

The differences are greater than, "My favorite colors are pink, purple and white. His favorite colors are brown and black."

My friends, we have definitely reached the, "Boys have penit-zes! Girls don't," stage.

Lizzy shouted out this little gem on Monday evening as we wended our way not so swiftly through rush-hour traffic. I was driving. As usual, I pause; glance questioningly at Matt, whose smirk confirms that I heard our little darling correctly; and say, "What was that, sweetie?"

She reiterated her stance, and I said, "Oh. Yes, I guess they do." and sat and waited for the moment to pass. After I thought for a minute, I queried: "Who told you that, Lizzy? Where did you learn that?" She must've realized that she said something a little strange for Mommy and Daddy, because she said, "Uh, nobody. I learned it all by myself."
Oh. How comforting.

It's not that I want to keep my daughter in the dark, as it were, about things of that nature. I wouldn't even mind talking to her about it. It's just that I don't want to have that kid -- you know the one. The one who parrots everything he or she has learned to the grandparently neighbor, or the childless couple who just isn't amused, or the very worst possible person and place to reveal this. It's my own fault -- Mom said I was forever doing this to her when she was trying to socialize with people after church when I was small. And I remember why -- I wanted her attention! My mom was cool, and she was MY mom, but she wasn't paying attention to me, so something had to be done about that.

Anyway. I don't want to have that kid. If it comes at the cost of keeping her ignorant... Oh, well! (I refer you to the "Oh my God" post of a few posts ago... Etc.)

So. The next morning, Tuesday, was her birthday. Matt had (finally!) gotten up and gotten into the shower, and I was downstairs doing something or other, when Lizzy woke up. (I heard about all this later) She trotted into the bathroom, pulled aside the shower curtain a little, peeked in at Matt, and said: "I'm four years old!" Apparently, he sensed it coming, and managed to turn strategically away from her. But she was a bit too clever. She sneaked quickly to the other end of the shower curtain, tucked it aside, and said: "You have a penis!" and pointed at Matt's groin. Out she ran, and Matt stood there and thought, "Yes. Yes, on both counts."

There's just no holding down a bright little mind, I guess. Four years old -- watch out. I can't believe I have a 4-year-old. It's blowing my mind.