mark was in the bath tonight and he was flicking his penis with his forefinger and so i reminded him of something we have been working on, which is not to play with his weenie. his response was to ask me a straightforward question: "this, weenie?"
"yes mark. that weenie," i grunted back as if rehearsing for the stage production of clan of the cave bear.
"what deez," he countered grasping one testicle in each hand as if they were wads of cash?
"uhhhhh," (damn, i thought.) (he's two and he is asking me about his reproductive equipment? wtfa?!) (already.) "those are your bolz," i stammered. i figured if i masked "balls," somehow, i would be giving him a straight answer but playing on his horrible pronunciation skills. (i'm serious. sometimes he sounds like he's one.)
"bahdz?" he asked.
"no. bolz," i answered intoning the sounds as clearly as i could, "buh-ohhhh-llllllllll-zzzzzzz."
"bolz!" mark shot back with a big smile.
he went on to repeat both words over and over for at least three minutes. maybe five.
"the weenie and those bolz," he joyfully exclaimed while flicking the little genitalia around like a gnarled boxer working the speed bag. "those bolz and the weenie."
indeed little man-weenie and bolz. laugh it up because tomorrow those are going to be the new words you are not allowed to say for a season.
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