It’s time for the second installment of Ask Lola! I was so happy about the success of the first that I was afraid I might never be able to dispense such glorious wisdom again, but then I remembered that I am practically overflowing with sage advice for the masses, so I decided to go for it. And here it is.
This problem comes from Riana Rae of My Car Garbage and is quite a doozy:
My 4 year son is a chronic penis dabbler, and we just don’t know how to combat this situation anymore. At ALL times of the day you can find him with his hand deep into his pants. He’s not pleasuring himself (I think); it rather seems as if he needs his penis to process thoughts. His father and I have done our best to discourage his penis connection with positive affirmations such as:
“Honey, it’s ok to touch your penis, but we only want you to do this in the bathroom, or alone, like when you go to bed because it’s a private part.”
We’ve also tried Pavlov-type experimentations by yelling “PENIS” really loud whenever we see the offending hand ready to grab. Lately we’ve taken to just being down-right honest and perhaps a little mean:
“Dude – your fingers smell like penis. Go wash your hands” or “You’re not going to be able to go to kindergarten if you keep touching your penis all day. The kids are going to laugh at you and call you ‘penis-toucher'”.
None of these tactics have made one bit of difference. The kid doesn’t give a shit who sees him digging in his pants, or even if his Cheetos taste a little bit like penis when he doesn’t wash his hands. I need some advice.
Well, shit. It seems to me — and I hate to be the one to have to break it to you, Riana — but you’ve got what experts call a serious case of Progeny of the Male Gender. It sounds horrifying, I know, but the good news is, there’s hope.
The most obvious key to thwarting incessant penile dabblement is to trade your Progeny in for a Female model. I realize you may have grown attached to this one, but you have to sit down and really ask yourself if your attachment outweighs your desire to not constantly see and smell penis. If it doesn’t, and if purging peen from your life (not ALL peen, of course; just this particular peen) sounds like the preferred option here, I recommend dropping him off in front of a hospital or church and high-tailing it out of there, or if you’re feeling especially adventurous, taking him into a store and making a mad dash for the exit before he realizes you’re gone and then heading to a park or playground somewhere and swiping a Female version from a merry-go-round or tire swing. She might holler and wail initially, but I’ve found chloroform helps to curb that little problem.
If, on the other hand, you simply can’t bring yourself to dispense of your original model, there are a few things you can try.
1. Tell him that playing pocket hockey with his man marbles in public causes the whole thing to fall off. In my experience, Progeny of the Male Gender, no matter how young or old, shudder to think of living life sans man satchel. To really drive it home, consider using yourself as an example: “See, honey? Mommy diddled herself in public one too many times, and look — no wee wee.” He.Will.Be.Terrified.
2. Warn him that God (or Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, monsters under the bed — whatever) comes into the rooms of little boys who play with themselves too much and cuts off their fingers in the night. Show him some clips of Chucky from Sons of Anarchy as proof. Should do the trick.
3. Whip out your own private parts and start strumming on the lady fiddle at the kitchen table to see how much he likes it. This has the potential to backfire, though, turning group masturbation into a favorite family pastime. Proceed with caution.
4. Publicly shame him by making him wear a large name tag that reads “I’M A PENIS TOUCHER!” on school picture day and posting it to social media/sending it to all your relatives. This will only work if he can read and actually cares what people think of him, which at his age isn’t likely, so perhaps sticking with #1 and #2 is your best course of action. (Unless, of course, you want to save those pictures for the future in the event that this public winky whacking becomes a lifelong habit. They’d be a super fun “Remember When?” to hang on the walls at his going to jail party.)
5. Padlock his hands behind his back and chain him to the coffee table. But only between 8 am and 8 pm. I’m pretty sure after 12 hours it’s considered child abuse.
In the event that none of this works, join Tinder, hook up with a significantly younger male stripper, and run away to Vegas for forever. It’s your husband’s problem now.
DISCLAIMER: None of this is serious. I do not condone abandoning one’s children and kidnapping someone else’s. I do not recommend anyone use chloroform for anything. I do not think it’s wise to tell young boys that their privates will fall off and that the Almighty will smite their fingertips, nor do I believe you should play DJ on your cookie at the kitchen table and scar your children for life by destroying their dignity with compromising photos. You should not actually do any of this. Ever. At all.
Have your own problem you’d like to submit to Ask Lola? Want to read previous Ask Lola installments? CLICK HERE.[/nextpage]