We were driving somewhere one day when our then twelve year old daughter announced from the backseat…
“Mum, my urethra is sore.”
There was a moment of stunned silence from my husband and I before I cleared my throat, gathered my composure and ventured….
“What do you mean? When did it start hurting?”
My daughter had recently been studying anatomy at school so I thought she was testing out her biology lessons on us to inform us of a potential urinary tract infection.
“Oh, for a day or so. ”
“Umm, ok…well maybe we should take you to the doctors?”
“Yeah, it only really hurts when I swallow.”
Exchanging perplexed glances my husband and I contemplated the possibility of that until she added…
“You know…that little thing dangling down at the back of your throat?”
You know when someone laughs so hard that all they can do is rock silently back and forth with their mouth wide open, face turning various shades of pink then red, then alarmingly purple until finally a wheeze like squeal drags a constricted breath into their oxygen starved lungs?
This was my husband at the wheel of the car… in busy traffic.
Hypoxic and hysterical we both did the above for at least five minutes while the children observed in astonished silence.
It took at least another five minutes for the residual breath catching to subside before I turned to my confused daughter and said….
“Darling…I think you mean your uvula. That is in the complete opposite direction to your urethra.”