Henry Hefner

My son Henry has this navy blue Superman bathrobe that he likes to wear around with nothing else on but his underwear. We took to calling him Little Hugh Hefner a while ago, but of course the significance is lost on him. It’s just so darn cute when he comes down fresh from a shower with his hair combed over and his little bare chest showing through the open part on his robe. I mean, of course I think it’s cute–I’m his mother.

Then a few weeks ago, my kids came home from someone else’s house* claiming that they had found some “secret” magazines hidden in a closet and that upon discovering them, the homeowner had promptly thrown the magazines away. (Sure, Sure, you are saying. But I swear it wasn’t our house. That is not the kind of contraband we keep around. Kidding.)

Oddly I was not upset by this. I think in everyone’s  repertoire of memories, there is that time during childhood that you found the forbidden materials. It’s like a right of passage. Plus, I didn’t see what they found, but based on their accounts, it seemed very tame. very mild.  The kids made a few jokes about people being naked (I think Cate said “butt” about 200 times; honestly, she’s the one we worry about) and then I told them to drop it and they did. End of story.

Or so I thought.

This morning when I got in the car, Henry announced that he had found my “girly” magazine. He then produced an old copy of Oprah and began laughing uncontrollably.

Me: “What?”

H: “Why do you like to read girly magazines?”

Me: “um, because I’m a girl. duh.”

H: “Well why do some boys like to read girly magazines?” Followed by profuse giggling by Henry & Cate. Thomas has covered his face with his hands at this point, whether to laugh or cry I am not sure. Probably cry.

Me: “What do you mean?”

H: “You know. Some boys like to read about girls with their clothes off.”

Uh-Oh.  And sidenote: what the hell does Oprah have to do with all this?

I think I said something like, “We’ll talk about that later,” because at that point the girl we take to school had opened the door and I didn’t want to educate the whole neighborhood on the merits of Playboy or whatever he had seen. (Otherwise I might have said: “The articles are really good, honey. Seriously.”)

And then, the real truth, and the confirmation I’ve been dreading that my son is indeed channeling Hugh Hefner in that bathrobe — the next thing I hear is:

H: “I just can’t get it out of my mind! It’s all I can think about!”

It seems he has established his preferences early.


*location has been changed to protect myself from the harm to my own body that would surely result if I outed this person


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2 responses to “Henry Hefner

  1. OMG, I’m dying laughing!!!
    As a kid though, I remember seeing those magazines and seeing a video (at a friends house) and I’m only mildly scarred by it. We all go through it.
    But still, so funny. Not for you, but for my entertainment.

  2. Angie

    Hahahahaaaaaa – too funny. Sounds like his godparents are going to have their work cut out for them – I’ll warn Bryan. And the house where I was first introduced to those materials?? A certain backyard neighbor – I know you won’t be surprised. You’re so right, it’s a rite of passage.