How Do Girls Pee?

I was visiting Mum for a week.

Always a delight for candid chat

Over a few quiet days

And the diverse 'drop-ins'

We both enjoyed so much.


One afternoon a favourite cousin called by

For coffee and cake.

In his fifties now – a fine looking chap

With the same twisted grin

I liked so well from childhood.


After some general conversation

He set down his cup

Twinkled at his smiling aunt

And leaned over to me confidentially.

'Do you remember playing in the sand hills

At Grandpa and Grandma's farm?'


Of course, I did!

Five and seven years old we were

Our fathers far away in war -


And for an hour of squawking laughter

Our tensions tossed to the winds

We leapt from the brink of the pine hill


Sliding, ploughing, slithering

Through the fine, soft sand

All the way to the bottom

Unthinking of hidden roots

To break fragile bones

Just - joy.


I smiled, 'Yes. And?'


'Do you remember the day

It was just you and me?'


'No. Why?'


He grinned.

I should have been warned.

'We were all boys in my family – brothers.

And you were all girls in yours - sisters.'


I was listening intently, really interested

But I still didn't twig.



'We had no idea what made a girl a girl

Or a boy a boy.

'Booties and bonnets,' you said.

'Blue for a boy, and pink for a girl.'

And I said, 'What if the baby wears white or yellow?'


Ping! The day was like yesterday.

My mother was intrigued

Running her finger up and down the cup handle

Her coffee forgotten.

This was high voltage entertainment

Better than TV any day.


My cousin laughed, 'You do remember, don't you?'


'I do.

You were persistent.

And you said, 'Well, I think the difference is

The way we pee!

Boys pee standing up.

Can you pee standing up?'

'No, ' I said. 'It would dribble all down my legs.

I have to sit down, or squat.'

'Well,' you said, 'I'll show you how boys pee

If you show me how girls pee.'


That seemed fair, so I said, 'OK.'

And I clearly recalled

We dropped our drawers

Keen for this new knowledge

More dependable than colours.

I looked hard and I said,

'Oh, you pee through a hot dog!'

And he said, 'You pee through a hot dog bun!'

And we laughed and laughed.

Two ways to pee was so funny!

We turned our bums around to check the other end.

'Ha ha! Just the same.

We poo the same!'


Now we knew.

So we pulled up our pants

And went back to whooping

And leaping down the sandy slope

Not caring at all who went further, or faster

Or how boys and girls did their piddle.

◄ Never trust a lover who .....



<Deleted User> (19913)

Tue 1st Jan 2019 10:12

An innocent moment beautifully capture. Made me laugh and remember how I'd done the same in a bath with my boy cousins. ?

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Alan Travis Braddock

Tue 1st Jan 2019 09:35

Fascinating. That's how new life starts - with curiosity. Nobody really knew at the beginning, then.... BUT nowadays it all gets explained to kids, without any fun, without any mystery. Is it better or worse? Who knows? But I think, as an adult, that something is lost that will never return.
Beautiful evocation of what it was like to be innocent.

Robert Mann

Sun 30th Sep 2018 12:29

Cynthia - Ah the nostalgia of more innocent days. Lovely.

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Don Matthews

Sat 29th Sep 2018 09:13

Well done Cynthia. Reminds me of the inquisitiveness of my own childhood ?

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Martin Elder

Fri 28th Sep 2018 23:00

A wonderfully forthright and down to earth poem Cynthia.
Love it

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keith jeffries

Fri 28th Sep 2018 19:22


A poem which evokes similar memories of adolescence when Pamela Brown took me behind her father´s garden shed and said those all too familiar words, ¨if you show me yours, I¨ll show you mine ¨. Being a fledgling homosexual I came away unaffected and equally unimpressed. She made a second attempt some time later but fore warned is forearmed.

Your poem also speaks of an innocence which makes me wonder if such events occur now with television and pornography so easily available.

Well done Cynthia. I now avoid garden sheds.
Thank you

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Hannah Collins

Fri 28th Sep 2018 18:19

An incident from childhood that suddenly brings awareness and knowledge.
Beautifully described, the innocence and joy of children.


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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 28th Sep 2018 16:37

Weird as this may sound, this poem has been a labour of love. I have so enjoyed bringing it to 'life' at last.

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