I suffer from penis envy. They are fascinating little things that seem to capture the attention of man and boy and they are so flexible; as a lady I can’t imagine having a part of me that I can twist and twirl and bend at will.
Twin boy adores his little captain, since birth he has taken it everywhere he goes, often walking hand in hand with it. He likes to show it off at inopportune moments and like any small boy the moment he feels anxious he reaches for his friend and holds it comfortingly outside of his pants.
However today Twin boy was trumped in the willy department. The four of us, Twin girl, twin boy, BB and I had flocked to the park to while away the hours on swings, slides and climbing frames. As usual my overtly social offspring leapt at the first other children they saw and became best friends in moments.
As much as we love the park the downside is there is nowhere to relieve oneself should the call of nature come upon you. It became clear that Twin boy was in urgent need of relief from the moment we arrived at the park. As he raced from swing to slide his movement was marked by a curious wiggle which was accompanied by his hand firmly holding his fella. However when I enquired as to whether he needed to use the little boys room, fear of leaving the park dominated his answer ‘no mummy,’ he said hoping from foot to foot.
His new best friend also seemed to share his ailment and together they did the wee-wee wiggle and played and wiggled some more.
Soon it became time to leave the park and Twin Boy’s need to empty his bladder seemed to be reaching boiling point. His wiggle was more of a clench and bend, his knuckles were turning white with the tension in his grip. I have to be honest, I feared for my car; memories of driving along the M4 with Twin boy urinating in an empty coke bottle sprung to mine and a cold chill washed over me.
‘Can you make it home?’ I questioned
Strain filled his answer as he folded in half, squeezed his buttocks and performed an Irish dance,
‘I don’t think so’ he said mournfully.
His new best friend strolled over, ‘s’ok’ he said ‘I am going to use the toilet tree’ and off he danced.
Twin boy look at me for confirmation and the M4 memory rewound in my head; I quickly mused as to what age one can be booked for flashing in a park and made up my mind that a widdle in the wind was better than a pee in his pants so I nodded my approval.
Then I watched boys be boys.
The pair of them took huge delight in waving their willies, sword fighting with jets and giggling like school girls, and then twin boy was top trumped.
‘Look’ he called to his new friend as he aimed high up in the tree sending a yellow arc onto a leaf.
‘That’s nothing’ cried his flexible friend and then proceeded to take his chap and turn him 180 degrees. I watched in amazed horror as it went up and up until suddenly Twin Boy’s new best friend shot a stream of piddle straight up his own nose.
‘Awesome’ snorted twin boy as his friend spluttered out pee.
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