The (nearly) Naked Truth

I have a 4 year old son. He's awesome. He speaks with a clarity of vision and from such a sincere place in his soul that you'd swear he was 4 and a half or 5.

Bear in mind that this clarity and sincerity is completely unfiltered. He cares not a wit about his surroundings or the company he keeps while making his sincere and honest proclamations. So if, for instance, his dad happens to find himself standing next to Ben Folds at the store-trying to come up with the hippest way of communicating his admiration for the piano rocker-and my son feels the urge to visit the lil' boys room, he'll just shout ,"Daddy! I gotta go poopy!" Roger that. Moment over.

Often, it's possible to read between the lines of what he's saying to find hidden nuggets of truth. For instance, "sissy's crying" could also mean, "sissy's crying because I stole and ate all of her raisins." Or, "I made good decisions" can sometimes be taken as "apart from the 10 minutes + spent in time out for throwing gravel at a bird, things went pretty well today."

It's with this knowledge that my parents report from a recent babysitting stint hit me as particularly noteworthy. They'd walked in to the mall to kill some time and burn off some energy. And my boy excitedly bounds through the sliding double doors exclaiming, "The Mommy Store!!" While pointing directly to...Frederick's of Hollywood.

When my folks relay this story to my wife and me, she turns almost purple with embarrassment. Picturing, no doubt, the concerned looks that must have passed between my parents as they wondered what sordid sexual escapades their precious grandson had been exposed to. Thinking too, that while we aren't head-to-toe flannel jammies, lights off, missionary-position types of people, we aren't exactly Frederick's of Hollywood peeps either. So, while she was mortified at the prospect of the exact nature our love life being announced by a toddler, I allowed my mind to drift to the between-the-lines truth that my son often speaks.

Maybe it's not a bad thing that he equates the lingerie store models with his mother (not something I wanna do mind you, but...). She's attractive, confident, and she's affectionate. It doesn't necessarily mean he's been poking around the wrong side of the closet. And, maybe I'm just the teensiest bit proud that my wife rocks. It might be embarrassing for her, but it's true. And if there's one thing my son knows, it's truth.

Truth. Sincerity. And clarity of vision. That's my boy

- by Tim P