“Pupils?” he responded in a question kind of statement. “You’re thinking of nipples,” I told him, then explained the difference. “They’re called breasts,” I said, “like I had breast cancer.”

“Oh, yea!” said Joey, who went on to inquire (already forgetting the proper word): “Why do some girls like their boobies so big?” I explained that some people just like them big, and some don’t. He asked for my preference, and I revealed that I don’t happen to like them big. In fact, I had mine reduced, I shared, because they were too big, and they bothered me.

End of boobie story. We moved on to Mustangs and how GTs are better than 6-cylinders.

Boobie talk resumed tonight, when Joey said to John, “Dad, did you know mom had her boobies defrosted?” This from the boy who thought not long ago that his testicles were tentacles and still can’t quite figure out how babies get in the stomach. Maybe ‘boobies’ is not so juvenile after all. He is only 8. Plenty of time to clue him in. There is plenty of time, right?