I love my kids.  I think they are each talented and bright.  But sometimes they do things that make me wonder if I am either a terrible parent who is twisting their little minds, or if they are just goofy.  I am often faced with situations I just don’t know what to do with.  Some serious, some humorous, all baffling just the same.  Things not found in books, never mentioned in anecdotes from family and friends. Subjects not covered in any of the 117 Brady Bunch episodes, and I’ve seen them all.  Time doesn’t seem to make it any easier, and I have no more answers with children two and three than I did with the first.

Everyday is trailblazing uncharted territory. 

Let me illustrate.  

Shortly before my daughter started kindergarten, I bought her some new underwear.  She has the cutest, roundest little tush, but her behind kept outgrowing her panties.  This time I bought them a size larger, hoping after allowing for shrinkage she would not outgrow them so quickly.  I guess I overestimated, because they were too big.   They bagged a little right where it counts, and were a bit loose around the legs.  Consequently, they tended to ride up and get stuck in the, uh, well, crack.  There’s no genteel way of saying it.  

Here’s where the story strays outside the lines.  She liked it.  She liked her panties all bunched up in her, um, well, between her buttocks.  So much so that if they slipped out, she would reach back and cram them back in.  This got to be quite embarrassing, at least for me.  If she was wearing leggings you could see this big bunch emerging from the top of her, uh, crevice.  And then there was the constant readjusting.  I explained to her that most people are concerned with keeping their panties out of that place.  However, after prompting, reasoning, and finally demanding got no results, I gave up.  It had gotten to the point where she would walk in backward circles around me to keep me from seeing her bum.  If I came into her room while she was changing, she would get this terrified, guilty look on her face and quickly sit down or cover her bottom.  

Geez, I wasn’t trying to traumatize the kid.  If she wanted a continual wedgie, it certainly wasn’t worth this much anxiety.  She could wear her panties any way she liked, but I let her know it would be nice if she would refrain from repacking in public.  

Then about two weeks into the new school year, I got a call from the kindergarten teacher. 

“I’m concerned about Julia.  I am wondering if she has some sort of medical condition.  She scratches her bottom a lot.” 

Oh, dear. 

“Uh, well let me explain,” I began.  “Actually, she’s not scratching.  I bought her some panties that were too large and rode up on her, and she decided she likes it that way.  So now whenever they start to slip out, she pushes them back in.” 

“Oh, uh, I, um, well, I see,” her teacher stumbled.  “Well, as long as there is no physical problem.” 

No, no.  No physical problem.  “Gosh, Miss Kindergarten Teacher, my five year old daughter is just jamming her panties up her divide.  Thanks for calling!”  Sheesh, write that one down in the book of Life’s Awkward Explanations.  

I told my psychiatrist uncle about Julia’s little obsession and the subsequent conversation with her teacher.  Perhaps he had some suggestions about how I could discourage this behavior, or could tell me if this was even worth worrying about.  He laughed so hard I thought he was going to turn blue.  “Get her some kindergarten thongs,” he gasped out between guffaws. 

Thankfully, Julia soon figured out for herself that people take note when you are constantly touching your butt.  She went back to normal panty wear on her own.  But you see what I mean, don’t you?  Oh, I was ready for booger eating.  I have no problem at all with decapitated Barbies, and I was pretty calm about impromptu safety scissor haircuts.  It’s the things they come up with that you’ve never heard of before that really make you doubt your gene pool.  

This was a lighthearted example, but I never realized before I had children that there would be so much uncertainty.  I didn’t realize there would be so many times when I just didn’t know if I was doing the right thing for my child, or not doing something I should be doing.  Maybe I yelled too much and this behavior was some outward exhibit of a ravaged psyche.  Maybe we didn’t spend enough one on one time, and this was a desperate cry for attention.  Maybe she’s just a goofy kid like a hundred other goofy kids.  But in the end (no pun intended), all I can do is whatever I think best, and do it with love.  I guess this and other interesting episodes are just part of the grand adventure of parenting.