Boob Fascination

Ever since I can remember, my kids have been fascinated with two things: dirty jokes and breasts. They're like little miniature sailors running around. Both things capture their attention like nothing else. While the older ones have seem to outgrow the titty titillation, the younger two are still mesmerized. You know that song by Jay-Z "Can I Get A..."? Yeah, I used to be just standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, and one of the kids would walk by and nonchalantly raise up both hands, doing a cupping motion, and sing, "Can I get a woop! woop!"
So much for singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider."
And my kids have no hesitancy in sharing their opinions of breasts, either. Especially mine. One morning a couple years ago I woke up (I was just sleeping in my underwear). Apparently the covers were not strategically placed enough around the chest area, because I opened my eyes to see Chloe and Wyatt standing next to the bed, each eating a bowl of cereal. "Gross, Mom," Wyatt said. "Cover up."
Chloe made a circle motion with her index finger and announced, "I can see your little meatballs."
My what? My little MEATBALLS? Granted, after 4 kids I'm well aware I'm not sporting tiny pink erasers, but I take great offense at being compared to something that belongs on a hoagie.
When my oldest daughter Frankie turned 9, she had a slumber party. I was upstairs, decorating her cake, and she and her friends were all downstairs playing the game "Would You Rather..." I could listen to their questions they posed to each other and it was all pretty innocuous. Pretty cute, actually. One of them would ask the other, "Okay, would you rather... eat a spoonful of dirt... OR, kiss Luke so-and-so?" And I would hear a chorus of "Ewwwww!" and I would just have to smile. Well, Chloe was sitting on the steps and was just dying to be included in this game. She kept raising her hand and telling everyone, "Pick me! Pick me!" Frankie's friends were ignoring her, and it was just tearing Chloe up. I decided to go downstairs and get Chloe to come upstairs, so she wouldn't continue to bother the girls. I started coming downstairs toward Chloe. She looked at me and knew she only had a brief moment in time to make an impact on the girls at the party. "C'mon, Chloe..." I told her. "Come upstairs with me." She looked like a trapped animal and instantly blurted out: "Hey guys guess what! One time I saw my grandma's vagina!" The chorus of "ewwws" was instantaneous.
(Now, to be fair to my mother, Chloe never actually saw her grandmother's va jay-jay. She just happened to be in the same room when they were changing one time to go swimming.)
I dragged Chloe upstairs, as she was kicking and screaming. I told her I'd play "Would You Rather..." with her. How hard could it be, I thought, to come up with questions for a 4 year old?
I sat down on the couch, next to our fish tank. "Let's see," I said. "Let me think of a question for you...."
"Oh no," she replied. "I get to ask YOU the question."
"Ok. Go ahead."
She paused, tapping her finger on her chin, as she looked around the room for inspiration.
"Ok, Mom, would you rather... swallow a fish out of the fish tank... OR (dramatic pause) let your husband see your boobs?"
I was speechless. I sat there with my mouth open, not sure if I should be shocked or burst out laughing.
"I know," she said, nodding knowingly. "I'd swallow a fish, too."
So now that the weather is finally getting nicer, and clothes will eventually get skimpier, do I dare risk the comments and criticism from the kids? I'm not up for any more "meatball" critiques...
Nah... I can handle 'em! Kind of.