I've shared this story with Jesus before, and he found it amusing and anecdotal, so here goes.
Five years ago, when G3 was a cute and affectionate ten-year-old and so were all of his baseball teammates, we had one boy on the team who had a castration curiosity. He would often not wear a cup as catcher or pitcher in hopes that he'd get his testicles smashed and have to have them removed. As anyone who has spent time with young boys knows, their conversations tend to wander in odd directions, and genitals are one of them that comes up (no pun intended) quite often. This kid honestly saw no purpose for having testicles.
Enter me, the 'drafted' assistant coach for the week and one overheard conversation that had my jaw on the ground in shock. Then he decides he wants to go home with G3 for the day, as there was another game later that night and he had a long trip home and back. Of course, G3's parents were going out for a day trip, which had left G3 in my care for the day. Enter Mom, who only knows me from the ballpark and being the photographer, who happily sends her son home with us with her blessing of "just bring him back sometime before Monday morning."
Hello?!
I think it's time to have a conversation with this woman, which I did. She found it laughable that her cute and somewhat effeminate ginger child had this fixation, and yes, she'd overheard this same line of talk before. The boy was terrified of growing up to be "a hairy monster" like his older brother, who was often the topic of bizarre conversations in the bleachers along the lines of such strange things about waxing his ass because he's so "furry".
What kind of family is MY kid hanging out with, anyway?!
"Mom, can you get me a salon wax tonight? My girlfriend is complaining about it again."
So I ask her if they've had "the talk," as I've already brought up four others and am currently supply the oldest 3 with condoms. Yes, they've had the talk. She finds it amusing. And in something that could very well be an EA story, yes, they live on a farm.
Jesus, can it get any better?!
Have I left reality behind for la-la land?
Queue up Rod Serling, "Enter a world where little boys down on the farm dream of being castrated like farm animals..."
So I ask permission, if it should come up again, to address certain issues, should they come up.
She says that's fine, "he's a dirty minded little kid."
Is CvanD lurking behind a tree? By this time, I'm to the raised eyebrow stage.
Enter Fate, as one other boy on the field gets a foot the balls from the sliding runner coming into 3rd base.
By now, you know what the topic of conversation is all the way home, into which I boldly go to set this kid straight. Keep in mind, he refers to his testicles as "accessories". I calmly explain the things that happen during puberty, which the two of them already know about. "We've had THE FILM" they tell me. "We know where babies come from," they tell me.
I counter with, "Do you know why you castrate cattle and such?"
Of course, SB knows. He's a farmer's kid.
And he thinks it's a great idea.
I tell him to wait a few more years, and get back with me on this topic when he's about fourteen or fifteen. "But I'm gonna end up like my brother!" He replies.
How do "I" end up in these situations? Why's it always me?
A few years pass, after convincing the kid to leave his 'accessories' right where they are and wait.
Two years later, puberty hits hard and fast. This is not the same kid. Suddenly this cute little pudgy and somewhat whiny child has a harem following him around, and he's a bigger baseball 'star' now than he ever was. I subtly ask him, after a game, if he remembered the conversation we had the night he spent with me and G3 and fell over his own feet and dislocated two of his fingers.
His face gets very red, and he nods. "I'm glad I kept 'em," he tells me.
The moral of this story?
Is there one?
Well, in retrospect, in the boy's "new" condition as a testosterone-fueled "hairy monster", he was perfectly happy with it.
Would he have been happy, had he managed to get himself castrated somehow?
I somehow doubt it.
What it comes down to is that Kewldawg and Cainanite sum it up pretty well, and I guess the moral is that you just never know.
However, can you spot a passing fixation upon an idea, and differentiate it from the real BIID or gender dysphoria issue?
I for one am not qualified to diagnose such.
Chemical castration and delay of puberty is reversible. There are piles of data on this, and unlike surgery, it's reversible.
Surgery isn't.
So I still have to stand by my belief that a child that young isn't capable of making an informed decision for something as permanent as castration.
And yes, it happened. Honestly. Now you know where story ideas come from.
The truth and life can be, and often are, stranger than EA fiction.