It really gets my gourd when I hear the career commentators share their idea of inhumanity by focusing so much attention on the private lives of a family minding their own business, or possibly influencing the way others might choose to raise their child.
Recalling my own mixed up ideas about sex, I remember clearly, as though it was yesterday, being corrected by a sibling as to what sex I was (after having been asked by somebody I can only describe as a fog). Thank god for older brothers and sisters.
It isn't as though the child will be prohibited from knowing what it's sex is when all it needs to do is ask somebody, and maybe reveal a little genital. But is that really something of a sin between the innocence of youth? Why am I even concerned? Could it be I feel traumatized for not saying I was a boy when I was asked by some stranger, and having to have been corrected by my older sister? I'll say this though, there are plenty of family photos of me wandering about without my drawers, letting it all hang out. That I don't remember posing for such pictures could not have possibly traumatized me; yet seeing the pix and being told it was me, eh. Maybe I never married for fear that those pix would find their way as a bonding mechanism between mother-in-law and spouse.