“Mom, I have a jewel.”

“Oh, Briar, that’s amazing. Where did you get your jewel?”

“I just have it.”

“Can I see your jewel?”

“Yes, mommy, it’s right here.”

“Right where?”

She proceeded to point out her jewel. I have been down the anatomical path and I took the high road. No po-po or va-jay-jays. Vagina. Girls have a vagina, boys have a penis. Jewel was never uttered.

“What do you mean you have a jewel?”

“I just have it.”

“A jewel?”

“Right here mama. It’s my jewel.”

“Ok, honey, that’s actually your body. It’s your vagina.”

“No, it’s a jewel. It’s my jewel.”

“Briar, your body is indeed a special thing, and that is your body, your vagina. Why are you calling it a jewel?”

“It’s my duty.”

“Your duty?”

“Uh-huh. My duty.”

“Who told you it’s your duty?”

“It’s not a duty, it’s a jewel.”

“What’s a jewel?”

She pointed just below her belly button. I put my hand lower on her diaper and said, “This? This is your jewel?” To which she very emphatically said, “No, mom, that’s my ba-china.”

“Did anyone touch your vagina?”

“You did mommy, for my pee pee like a good girl.”

“That’s right, I changed your diaper. Did anyone else touch your vagina?”

“I touch it!”

“Ok, that’s fine. You can touch in private. Did anyone else?”


“Ok, noone should ever touch it. That is your body.”

“Uh-huh and not gonna touch my ba-china.”

“What’s a duty?”

“My duty.”

“Can you tell me what your duty is?”

“To be a good girl and not yell and not scream and not run.”

“That’s right.”

“And I have another one duty.”

“You do? What is it?

“I gotta have a duty to not say Jesus.”