???? WHAT ????

My son Kevin is an absolute trip. That kid... Even his teachers tell me "If he wasn't so darn cute, he'd be in trouble a LOT more". *sigh* Guess I should start making time for my weekly meeting with the principal, eh?
The things that kid comes up with amazes me. Tonight was no exception.

He was in the shower, and I was washing his hair. He started playing with his fiddly bits, so I told him to stop playing with his penis. He said, "Mommy! Don't call it that!" So I asked him what I was supposed to call it then. He said, "Nuts. Weiner. Pacifier."

!!???!!??? A WHAT??!???! !??!!!?? PACIFIER??!!??? !???!!! !!???!!

Oh, holy hell... I was afraid to ask, but I knew I had to. My mind was racing to REALLY REALLY bad places.

"Um... Kevin? Who told you to call it a Pacifier?"

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(this is the part where John would put something like "read the rest of the story in extended traffic", but I don't have "extended traffic", so you'll just have to bear with me.)

He looked me straight in the eye, and said "It was on that commercial, Mommy. The one that goes "Oh, I wish I was a Pacifier Weiner...."

Closing my eyes and letting out a huge "PHEW"... I told him I'd be right back. I ran out of the bathroom, buried my face in a pillow and DIED LAUGHING!

OMG.... A Pacifier Weiner... What next?