A few Father’s days ago, my closest cousins-J, C, and K-were in town. I was about eleven at the time, which would make J 13, C 10, and K 7. Yes, those facts are significant. But I digress. My grandmother was having us make cookies for our fathers. J knew what she was doing. I was trying to be useful. C wanted to be done with it. K, I think, wasn’t sure what to do.

J put safety first, meaning using foil in the oven. I seconded this notion. C took leftover foil and started making a person out of it. K was entertained.

J cautioned us about using anatomical terms around a seven-year-old. I noted that C’s man was a bit shapely for his gender. C immediately gave him breasts. K chuckled at our vaguely naughty moment.

J was not amused. I suggested we call them “shapelies” for the sake of K’s innocence. C threw him/her to me. A distinctive organ was lost over K’s head in the flight.

One of us said: Oh no, he’s lost a…shapely! and we all died laughing.

Grandma was confused when she walked in again, but wisely didn’t ask.