A New Year's Day Surprise

Kellie doesn’t allow sexy time to happen unless the bedroom door is locked. Period. Unfortunately, for me, the bedroom door on our Cannes apartment was lacking the required lock. I improvised by wedging a beach umbrella under the door handle, propped up by a couple of magazines and copy of Rick Steves’ France, the 2011 edition with the foldout color map.

With the door properly barred, Kellie granted permission for the festivities to begin. I thought it was all just a waste of time (barring the door, not the festivities). There was little chance our 16 year-old daughter would barge in on us, but Kellie remains adamant about the whole door locking business ever since a minor incident 11 years ago.

It was New Year’s day, and despite drinking and partying the night before, we woke up at seven in the morning. Too early to get out of bed, Kellie and I decided to consummate the new year. I didn’t bother locking the bedroom door since our 5 year-old daughter Kyra couldn’t have possibly been awake after staying up and partying as late as the adults, minus the drinking, of course. There was little chance that she would barge in on us.

After starting the new year with a bang, Kellie realized that someone was downstairs watching TV. 

“See, she’s awake and you didn’t lock the door,” Kellie scolded me. “She could have seen us.” 

Kellie called Kyra. As our daughter enter our room, Kellie asked how long she had been awake.

“Awhile,” Kyra answered. 

“Why didn’t you come in?” Kellie asked.

“I did,” replied Kyra. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Daddy was on top of you.”

“Say something to your daughter,” Kellie demanded.

“Mommy and daddy were just wrestling,” I explained. That should have been sufficient to satisfy any five year-old, but it wasn’t.

“No, I don’t think so,” Kyra answered matter-of-factly. “I think you were humping.” 

How a 5 year-old recognizes humping had me stumped, but she did have a dog, a couple cats and three older siblings. I’m not sure who gets credit for the biology lesson. And although she used the word humping in the proper context, I doubted she fully grasped the mechanics of the act.

Five year-olds have a short attention span and we steered the conversation to more appropriate topics. Kellie had an itch and asked Kyra to scratch her back. When Kyra was through she asked if I’d like my back scratched, also. I declined her offer, and where a simple no thank you would have sufficed, I decided to poke an already irritated wife with an oblique comment that should have sailed over my daughter’s head.

“No thanks, Kyra. Daddy got his itch scratched earlier.”

In hindsight, I should have recognized that a five year-old who knows how to use the word humping might also get adult innuendoes.

“Oh yeah,” Kyra replied, “where was your itch, on your penis?”

First, it was clear that my daughter completely understood the mechanics of humping. Second, her language comprehension skills were outstanding, and third, I had just been burned by a kindergartener. I’m just thankful that she used the proper anatomical terminology. Given the number euphemisms for male genitalia, and her obvious language proficiency, she had many other options.  

Further discussion seemed pointless. It was time to get out of bed. 

Kyra has no recollection of the event, but the episode is etched into Kellie’s memory. Since then, we always lock the door. Period.
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