Who do I look like, Dr. Phil?

For some reason I have been sucked into the Google searches lately. I would say almost half of my visits over the last couple of days have been from their searches. And I know what you people are searching... Some of you need a lot of help.

Today, someone searched - what to do if you catch an adolescent masturbating

I almost feel obligated to address this. Someone out there needs my help. But I really wanted to write about the 5k race we're entering this weekend. My first one. Where I fully expect to bring up the ass end of the race with my lofty goal of finishing in 35-40 minutes… Hey, I said it's my first one, cut me some slack.

Oh, alright. The masturbating thing... So you walk in and find your little one playing with his dinger... Oh my God, what do you do? And I'm assuming this is a boy, because only a mom would wonder about this. If she found her girl masturbating, I would hope she would be able to handle it better.

First of all, don't panic, it's going to be ok. He won't grow hair on his palms, and no, God won't kill any kittens. Those are just myths. And he is not a sexual deviant, he won't necessarily be getting girls pregnant at 11...

Now that we have all that settled, don't you f-ing knock first you bitch? Seriously. Unless you think there is some illegal bomb making or meth production going on in there, give the poor lad some privacy. Trust me, nothing in the world is more detrimental to the mental health of a child than their mom walking in on them polishing up the jewels.

But, ok, you did. You walked in on him… God help him... The way to make that better is not to search what you did on the internet. Aside from probably catching the Feds attention, you aren't going to find any good help for this on the internet. Luckily you found me... luckily. I can help you.

Look, the reason your kid was beating his meat is because it feels good. That's it. It's natural. One day you're just waking up, you try to roll over and it's sticking in the bed like a fricken broomstick. You grab it to figure out what the hell the deal is, and realize... hey, this feels kinda good. Eight seconds later you're trying to figure out how to cover up all those wet spots...

Later on in life, he will discover these feelings come from looking at girls (or boys) and at that point, you may want to start keeping an eye on how much he watches those early morning ESPN work out shows. But really lady, it's a perfectly normal, healthy activity that most of sane people engage in. Hell, I've done it twice already today. I'll probably end up with about five or six under my belt before the day is done (no pun intended). It's nothing bad.

So, ease up on the lad, and for God's sakes, knock from now on. It's hard enough worrying about if your mom is going to bust in on you when you are rolling up a joint. The last thing you want to worry about is your mom busting in when you're petting the lizard...

What should you do about it? Nothing. Accept it. Fuggedaboutit... When you come up with a real problem, like my kid is addicted to crack and is robbing old ladies at the mall for drug money, come back, we'll have a real chat.

peace nick