For some reason, this post over at Manager Mom made me think of this story.
The set up:
Once there was a young boy named Ben. He was six and way too smart for his own good. (I loved this kiddo, he could give examples of “random” when he was four years old. Cracked me up.)
Ben was interested in his body and he asked his Mom to tell him about a particular body part, he was referred to his father, my friend Zooey, to get the answer.
B:?Ç¬† What’s this called, Daddy?
Z: What’s what called?
B: This! (yanking his underoos down for a visual)
Z: Oh. Those. Those are testicles.
(Which then led to discussion of what testicles are and why it’s plural when it looks pretty singular.)
Z: The correct name for them is “testicles” but there are other names for them too, like balls, nuts, junk, nads, stones, cojones, basket, nards, knap sack … but you call them “testicles” when you talk to anyone but me.
B: Okay, Daddy.
The next day, Ben is taking a shower, he SCREECHES for his dad.
Z: (runs to the bathroom, now panting and nearly pissing himself thinking something is wrong) What?
B: What’s that thing under a turkey neck called?
Z: You mean the waddle?
B: Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna call my testicles now on – my waddle – cuz that’s what it looks like!