I was probably about 7 when I first realised there was some weird, fleshy mystery going on between my legs. At that age, you’re discovering a lot about yourself: how far you can run, how many Spice Girls lyrics you can learn in one evening, whether or not you can fit an entire roll of quarters in your nose — and now, a new thing, a strange part of your anatomy that you don’t yet understand. Like a light on your car’s dashboard that suddenly comes on, you figure it’ll be important later, and shove it to the back of your mind.