Teaching Timmy
‘Timmy, what’s the problem?’ He blushed and lowered his head until the tip of his nose was almost in his cereal bowl. ‘Nothing Mommy.’ She tightened the tie around her silk dressing gown and walked over to the breakfast bar. ‘You’ve had your hand inside your pajamas ever since you came down to breakfast. There must be something wrong.’ ‘It’s my ... my ... my thingie ... it won’t stop itching.’ ‘Let me see.’ ‘Mom!!!!’ ‘Look at me, son.’ Timmy raised a reluctant face, but couldn’t meet her...