Page 116 of Catching Our Moment
“Oh, really. Do you think it’s time?” TJ asked.
“Well, yes. If he wants to be with my mom…” He turned his attention to me. “I thought it was important.”
“I know. Your mom and I discussed it,” I admitted. Because she was in charge, and I loved it.
“Because I want a sibling—a brother or sister. I’m not going to be picky about it.”
I choked on my reply before it made it out of my mouth.
He nodded and, dead serious, said to my face, “As long as you get working on it. Because I’m not getting any younger, and before you know it, I’ll be off to college and won’t be able to bond with the baby.”
“Baby?” Still playing catch up, I wasn’t prepared for his next wave of thinking.
“Yes, and in order for you and my mom to have a baby, a few things need to happen.” He straightened. “First…” He held up his index finger. “You need to be in the same place, preferably married, but we have that covered.”
I searched for my bride, hoping for backup.
He smiled and continued, “Second, you need to be mindful of taking hits to your groin area. You don’t want to hurt your testes.”
Did he just say testes? I was too stunned to facepalm or even cringe. I was being lectured about the well-being of my cojones by a teenager. TJ’s head dropped, and his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
“And third, I know you like your boxer briefs, but you really should think about regular boxers. Just let yourself hang out and help increase your motility.”
TJ gave up the fight, hitting the table and screaming, “Motility!"
Yep. That did it. I was mortified. Amused and strangely charmed—but horribly embarrassed. I didn’t know whether to laugh or put tape over his mouth, but a chuckle or two snuck through my indignation.
I prayed for Kelcie’s reappearance. “Back up a minute, Buster. First, don’t you worry about my testes. You don’t talk about another man’s junk, okay?”
“Why not?”
“It's…it's rude.”
“Mom and her friends talk about their women parts all the time.”
“Well…well…we are on a public podcast, and I’d rather not discuss my boys.” I gestured
at my crotch.
He tilted his head, staring at me, and then said, “Okay.”
“Also, where did you learn about motility.”
“Health class.”
“And boxers versus briefs?”
“Google.” He folded his hands in front of himself. “I also learned what can happen if you
don’t wear a jockstrap and a cup. Do you wear one?”
The laughter of thousands of listeners took up real estate inside my head.
Undaunted, he said, “Did you know some athletes can suffer from testicular torsion—that sounds worse than just getting kicked in the balls.”
I straightened and cleared my throat before saying, “Yes, well. Let’s get back on topic, shall we?”
It took some time for TJ to regain his composure. I said to Aaron, “Why don’t you check and see if your mother is still standing, or if she’s left us both and run for the hills?”
