Recently, we visited this place called Lotte World. Think of it as Korea’s version of Disneyland. And though clearly a knockoff, it was still pretty fun. Of course, they had all sorts of rides, long lines, and a resort for guests to stay at.

Thus, when we weren’t at the theme park, we were able to find some other activities to keep the kiddos occupied, one of which was swimming (sorry, no pics of the dad bod this time).

As we were finishing up one of our sessions at the pool and heading into the locker room, there were of course people doing what they needed to do in preparation for their swim. No problem. Completely normal. Though for a 5-year-old boy having limited exposure to locker rooms, there were obviously some oddities to take note of.

“Look daddy,” said my son taking notice of one of the gentlemen in the throws of a wardrobe change. “That man has a strange wee wee!” No doubt the man, as well as the rest of locker room patrons, heard what was said. As for his ability to understand English, I prayed it wasn’t great, but an educated guess tells me he understood in some capacity the words that were uttered by the boy.

Making the best out of such an awkward situation, I played it off as no big deal and replied to him simply and tersely. “Zander, let’s just focus on getting your clothes on. We will talk when we get back to the room.”

“But dad, his wee—”

“Zander!” I reminded him, and continued to do so a few more times before we exited the locker room, since that’s how an innocent 5-year-old is expected to act. Eventually, we were able to get out of there, where I was able to salvage enough credibility to recover from the situation.

Or so I thought…

I waited until we got back to the room to speak, since for his sake, it was only fair to converse in as private of a setting as possible; and the resort hallways and elevators just wouldn’t do. No need to embarrass the little guy after all.

Back at the room, we dropped our pool bag and I sat him on the bed, taking a moment to brace for the conversation at hand. “Zander, it’s important that we don’t point and talk about other people’s wee wees when we’re in places like the locker room.” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, my wife starts giggling, fully knowing she shouldn’t be. “Hun, it’s not funny!” I scolded, for in fact this was a serious talk between father and son—between man and young man—and I intended to keep it that way.

Instead of quelling her laughter, the comment only seemed to intensify it. However, doing my best to maintain composure, I continued with the boy. “Also, we shouldn’t point or look at other people’s wee wee’s when we’re in the locker room either.

“But daddy,” he started to reply, his voice softening and eyes lowering. “I didn’t mean to look at his wee wee.” At this point, I could hear my wife snickering on the other side of the bed, popping out just like that stupid dog does when you miss in Duck Hunt.

“Seriously, knock it off,” I reprimanded once again through gritted teeth. I suppose one could give her some credit for trying to hold it in, but in reality, she wasn’t helping the situation—One bit. And every time I yelled at her, it only seemed to make things worse. Again, understanding the importance of our conversation, I wasn’t going to let her behavior get in the way of what was right. I brushed it off as best as I could and continued.

“I know you didn’t, and if you see another person’s wee wee in the locker room, that’s ok. We just shouldn’t stare. Do you understand?” The boy just kept his head down, feeling like he had failed his old man. Of course, shame was never my intent, for all I wanted to do was use it as a teachable moment and prevent him from future troubles, as any good father would do. With that mindset, I changed tactics.

“Hey bud, why did you think his wee wee was strange?”

“Well, it was hairy and black all around, and in the middle there was a white dot.” At this point, my wife was pretty much dry heaving, like she was about to blow a gasket at a moment’s notice. I had to wrap this up quick before a catastrophe was afoot.

“Well, buddy, just like people look different, the same is with wee wees. Some have lots of hair and some don’t, Some are bigger, and there’s even some that are smaller…” I could sense heavy movement in the corner of the room. I glared over at my wife, who stood there convulsing like she was in the middle of a seizure. For the love of everything holy, keep it together! It was a tall order, one I doubted she could uphold, but I had no other choice. I had to continue.

“But the important thing to remember, is that just like people, it can be rude to talk about wee wees… even when they indeed, look a little… strange.”

What ensued was the equivalent of a MOAB going off in the desert. My wife howled with laughter, foregoing the last remnants of dignity in the room. “Hun! Seriously! You couldn’t control yourself for a few more seconds?!” The words served as fuel to her sense of “humor,” as the bellows came out heartier than before, further intensifying my frustration. Yet, outburst after livid outbursts only served to exacerbate her manic state, leaving me at the end of my rope.

“C’mon, Zander, let’s get out of here!” With the situation now far beyond my control and all other options exhausted, I signaled for a retreat. But as we walked down the hallway, I, as well as other guests, winced at the maniacal laughter echoing across the hallway. I hung my head in disgrace, fearing my well-intentioned chat may have resulted in years of therapy. What have I done…

At the end of the day, are there things I could’ve done differently? Sure, nobody’s perfect. Was there a better venue to have this talk at? Possibly, though in the fog of war, time and clarity are luxuries often not granted. And that’s what parenthood comes down to. You don’t have to be perfect, for half the battle is just showing up with the courage to have those difficult discussions, even at the risk of humiliation.

And you know what? Since then, wee wee talk has gone down considerably! And I can already see the growth, so much so that he earned the right to see his first movie last week at the theater (Project Hail Mary, which was quite good, and recommended if you haven’t seen it already. Check out the post here). And given how mature he acted throughout, I’m starting to think that this little talk about strange wee wees was a turning point! And I, for one, am proud of how far he’s come along.

So ladies, I know when us guys are having these types of talks, you may think they’re funny. And you’ll be tempted to use that as a prime opportunity for embarrassment and ridicule. But that’s ok. As men, and more importantly, as fathers, that’s a sacrifice we’re willing to make. Because at the end of the day, there is no wee wee strange enough that’ll keep a father from having a heart to heart with his son.

So remember that next time you see your husband, and don’t be afraid to cut him some slack every once in a while.

And what better way of showing your appreciation than with a good book for them to enjoy???

Or, if you simply enjoyed what you just read, feel free to support me by purchasing a copy of my book (and leaving a review if you’re ever so kind!)

-Grizzly Chadams