Day 15: A Lesson In How to Wear Your Jockstrap

WARNING: This blog post contains explicit material...about jock straps. No descriptive details about the actual body parts inside the jock strap. JUST the jock strap. If you haven't figured it out yet, little is sacred in this blog. Life is gross and thus I post about gross. If this offends you in any way, please accept my middle finger, and go post about how much the world offends you on Facebook. 

Anyways.

Calen (turning seven...seven!! at the end of the month), is playing Cal Ripken youth baseball. He's in an 8u rookies division which means pitching machine all season (kids don't start pitching until AA - 9u). Now that he's in big kid baseball, he is required to wear (drumroll please) a cup. 

A cup! I nearly gagged at the word. This can't even be for real. Do they even feel anything there yet? My boys go around kicking themselves in the junk all the time and laugh. But rules are rules and moms everywhere are going "ewww REALLY" and buying them, sobbing quietly to themselves that now they're responsible for washing a dirty jockstrap. AHHH!!

Instead of buying the traditional totally awful straps of elastic you imagine are used as slingshots in every boys locker room in the history of ever, I bought these, boxer briefs (in the athletic-y Under Armour type material) with built in "pocket" for the cup:

A picture of underwear! Ahhh!!! Report for explicit material!

Comfortable, washable and can't be used as a slingshot. Okay, win. 

The first time he wore them, it didn't bother him at all. In fact, he was thrilled that he had "armor" and would stand in the infield and punch his junk and show the other kids "look, it doesn't even hurt!" 

Eyeroll. 

Then, I took the cup out, washed the underwear, and put it back in. And the next practice was a disaster. He wouldn't leave it alone, tugging at it and shifting it and walking like John Wayne after a three day cattle drive. He kept looking at me as if he was about to complain and I'd shout from the stands "DEAL with it!" Thinking maybe it was just a little stretched out from being washed, but he needs to get over himself. I mean really. STOP MESSING WITH IT. I'm such a good parent.

Got home, pulled the cup out, washed the underwear. And then suddenly had a thought. 

Look, I don't know jack squat about cups. I have a completely different set of anatomy from everyone else in this house. I've never worn one. I've never even SEEN one in person (I don't think. If I have, maybe I blocked it out of my memory forever. Thank God). And I certainly haven't studied one before. 

So I go out to the living room, hold out the cup to Brad, and go "is it like this? Or.." (flip the cup upside down) "This?"

Brad immediately points to how I held it the second time. And gives me a look like "obviously". 

Well shit. 

During his ill-fated practice, I had Calen wearing it like this:

WRONG. Dumbass.

When really, it's supposed to be like this:

RIGHT

Every guy is going to be like "Well DUH" but wouldn't someone, who's never dealt with a male private area protective apparatus, assume that the skinnier part would go where the uh...skinner body part is, and the...ahem...wider...part..would go where the....wider...body part goes?

(that doesn't count as being descriptive about explicit body parts, does it?)

And after throwing that argument out there, Brad proceeded to give me a visual aid on why it's shaped the way it's shaped. And I guess it makes sense. 

NO ONE WARNS YOU when you have cute little baby boys wrapped up in fuzzy lamb printed baby burritos that some day THIS is going to be something you will have to be educated in. NO ONE. 

This is your warning. AND your visual aid. 

You're welcome.

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