Diary of a Dirty Thinker

In the beginning, just like yours, my mind was once covered in innocence. One harmless question made the first dirt in my naive brain.

It was asked one summer afternoon by my father who was sitting on a table. He was talking to my brother, not to me. I was doing my math assignment and I could not focus because their laughs were filling the house. I did not know why they found the question very funny. So I decided to pass the question to my mother who was sitting on the patio stairs.

My mom was the kind of woman who acted like a man. The reason why our house was always messy every day, except on weekends because my grandparents would visit and check the house and their grandchildren.

"What kind of bee produces milk?"

I saw in her face the same reaction my dad and brother had. She laughed so hard that she spilled the orange juice she was drinking.

"What's funny?"

"Oh God, Bill. Where did you hear that?"

"From Dad."

"Come here, sweetie. I'll tell you the answer, but promise me you'll never ask this kind of question again. Ever. Can you do that?"

I sat on her lap and said, "Yes, I promise."

"The answer is boobie."

I laughed because mom was laughing. But honestly, I did not get the joke. So, that night, I decided to ask dad. And the lifetime fun began that moment.