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“Heard the toilet flush twice, but that’s about it,” I called over my shoulder, as I tried to save the mince from burning the pan, having made the rare mistake of forgetting I left the ring on. “Shit, fuck, shit.“
“Nice language,” Tadhg mocked from the kitchen table. “Should I learn how to spell those words too, Joe?”
“Just concentrate on your homework and less of the snark,” I shot back, eyeing my sister to come save me.
Smiling, Shannon walked over to the stove and nudged me out of the way. “Need a hand, Joe?”
“Please.” Tossing the spaghetti smeared tea-towel over her shoulder, I scooped up the toddler who, I was fairly sure was contemplating taking a dump in his pants and headed for the bathroom. “Does Seany have poos for Joe?”
“No poos, o-ee.”
Little liar.
“Go on and check for me,” I ordered, setting him down in front of the potty in the utility room. “Good lad yourself.”
“Hey, Joe? What’s a click-or-is?” Ollie called from the other side of the kitchen table.
“The fuck?” Gaping, I stalked back to where he had his homework book open. “Where did you see that word, Ollie?”
“I didn’t see it,” he explained innocently, smiling up at me. “I heard it.”
Jesus Christ.“Where’d you hear that, Ols?”
“In the sexual education talk at school.”
What the absolute fuck?
I looked to Shannon for help, but she had turned redder than the bolognaise she was stirring.
At a loss, I turned to Tadhg. “What’s this I’m hearing about sexual education?”
Tadhg shrugged. “No clue, Joe. I was away with the school’s hurling team.” He grinned proudly. “We won, and I scored two goals.”
“Nice.” Accepting his high-five, I quickly turned my attention back to spawn number five. “You’re in fourth class, Ollie. In primary school. You don’t need to be taking any sex education class.”
“It’s cunt-pulse-hairy.”
“Compulsory, you dope,” Tadhg growled. “Jesus Christ.”
Jesus Christ, I needed to get this kid into speech and language. “I’m going to have to call your school,” I told them both. “You’re too young to be learning about this kind of thing.”
“But what is it, Joe?”
“What’s what?”
“A click-or-is?”
Shannon choked on her own spit behind me.
“Well, uh, it’s like you said, it’s something you click,” I muttered, having no idea what to do, or how to handle the kinds of questions these kids continued to throw at me.
“Like a button?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Where?”
“Where’s what?”
