Last night when I got home, I walked in on bath time.
Sam was in the tub, artfully debating with my husband over whether he should wash her or whether she should be allowed to wash herself. Noah was already scrubbed up and shiny clean, bounding around the upstairs on chubby legs and dressed in a white onesie and white pants.
When I got there, Daddy interrupted Sam in mid-argument and said, "Hey! Or Mommy could wash you!" And he tossed the washcloth onto her forehead and escaped to freedom in the living room.
Sam snagged the washcloth, startged to wash what I usually refer to as her "girl parts" and yelled, "Don't worry, Dad! I'm washing my penis and my butt now!"
"Sam, you don't --" I started to say.
"SAM, YOU DO NOT HAVE A PENIS!" Daddy yelled from the stairs.
"Well, then, what do I got?" she asked me.
"You have a vagina," I said. "Boys have penises."
"A va - gina?" she said. "Do you got one of them, too?"
"Yup," I said. "All girls and women have them."
And then we moved on to the argument over washing her hair. End of discussion.
