Embarrassing Bodies

Oftentimes I dread picking the twins up from kindy.

You see, like many kids of their age they are keen story tellers and like to divulge a little too much information, the likes of which sometimes gets repeated back to me come pick-up time.

“Well if they ever say anything about me, don’t believe a word of it,” I reply, in an attempt at preventative face-saving.

It’s not that I have anything particularly shameful to hide, but you never know what embarrassing piece of fact or fiction is going to come out their mouths.

Speaking of embarrassing, last week when I went to pick up the kids I was met with: “Oh Jai’s been telling me all about watching Embarrassing Bodies. He told me there was a lady on it who couldn’t stop weeing and pooing.”

Jai has only caught a glimpse of the tv show once but is obsessed with it and will take any opportunity even just to bring its title into a sentence.

Quite some time ago while I thought they were happily entertaining themselves in their rooms, I attempted to catch up on some pre-recorded programmes on MySky.

There’s nothing like a dose of Embarrassing Bodies to boost one’s self esteem and I’d just settled down to it when the kids all piled into the lounge.

They skidded to a halt and froze with looks of horror on their faces.

Then: “Ewwwwwwwwww,” they stared aghast at the African woman with the oversize nipples on the screen.

The cat was asleep on my lap and the remote had somehow ended up on the other side of the room so they saw a few other sights before I finally prised myself from the couch and turned it off.

Shortly after their father returned from surfing.

“Dad,” Miss Four screeched. “We saw fannies and willies and big black boobies!”

Her dad looked at me shocked while I recoiled guiltily further into the sofa.

That evening, while out walking with a friend I told her about my childrens’ impromptu lessons of the human body.

“But I suppose it was sort of educational, like teaching them about the human body and that it’s flawed,” I said trying to justify my lack of parental responsibility.

“No Jodi, that’s just sick,” she said matter-of-factly.

She was right. Allowing my kids to watch Embarrassing Bodies was now coming back to haunt me by embarrassing myself.

“Mum you have an embarrassing body!” Master Four yelled in his overloud voice while walking through the playground at pick-up time.

I couldn’t shut him up fast enough.