How I Learned That I Was Nuts

When I was 6 years old, my father hosted a Labor Day picnic, at our home, for
his co-workers and their families. It was a hot late-summer day, and I was clad
only in shorts. My mother insisted that I "tan up" prior to the start of school.
My doctor had also suggested that direct sunlight would benefit my "asthmatic
chest."

I always wore long pants when I could get away with it. I was convinced that I
had caught girls "looking up" my shorts, as I sat, open-legged, on the porch,
had climbed trees, or had rolled around, on the lawn. Now, some will say that
a girl seeing a boy's underwear, is no worse than a boy catching a glimpse of
a girl's panties. However, any male can tell you that, after several wash cycles,
mens and boys briefs no longer fit snugly, around the crotch. Any male wear-
ing shorts, and the compromised briefs, who indiscreetly opens his legs, runs
the risk that "the whole world will know his business."

As the guests arrived , my father would ask each adult, in turn, "When you
take a shower, are you nuts"? Each time the question was asked, the adults
would laugh. Having grown bored with hearing the same question being asked,
over and over (and not understnding "the joke"), I sought entertainment else-
where. The dog and the cat both tired of my attention, and moved along.
Besides my sisters, there were several girls, and a few toddler boys, playing
in our yard. I decided to spend some time alone, at the south end of the house,
by the well.

As I was engaged in dropping pebbles into the well, and waiting for the resultant
"plop," I saw four "older" girls (ages 8-11) rushing toward me. "Glenda," the
leader, called out, "Davey, I know the answer to your daddy's joke. Pull down
your shorts, and I'll show you." Bemused by the suggestion, I failed to comply.
After a chorus of "pleeeeeez" issued forth from the group, I relented. A moment
later, I was standing there, blushing, with my shorts around my ankles.Glenda,
exasperated, said, "Well, you've got to pull your underwear down, too." Once
again, responding to the girls' pleading, I did their bidding. By now, my face
was "beet red." (according to the girls)

Glenda bent down, poked my testes with her index finger, and said, "These
things are called 'nuts.' Men and boys have them; women and girls don't."
While the other girls were engaged in a tactile investigation of my scrotum,
Glenda continued: "Because men and boys have these things, they can say
that they are 'nuts', when they take a shower." Glenda next took advantage
of my "situation," to introduce her "class" (me included), to the practice of male
masturbation.

As soon as Glenda concluded her period of instruction, I pulled my underwear and
shorts back up, and rushed into the woods, behind our house, to hide my shame.
I did not inform my parents, or any other adults, about the incident. From ny experi-
ence, I know that, had I "told," the only result would have been a mild rebuke of
the girls.

I feel no resentment toward the girls involved in the events desribed. They were very
young, and naturally curious. However, despite my tender age, I feel thatI could and
should have, done more to defend my personal integrity, and to protect the sanctity
of my "private parts."