The first grade potty talk has officially started. At dinner today, Chloe used the word “wienie” in the correct context. My husband and I were a both a bit surprised, considered that we’re proponents of using the proper terminology for one’s private parts.

Of course, as soon as she said it, she started to laugh hysterically. And of course, she attempted to get Sophie to repeat the word. Sophie refused to comply, however, because Sophie is above using such language for cheap laughs.

[By the way, Sophie was back to her usual cheerful, non-feverish self this morning. But she doesn’t have strep. Which still leaves a mystery as to what caused her crazy spike in fever yesterday. We’ll take her to our regular pediatrician on Saturday, just so she can have a look. I really could do without mysteries like that.]

It turns out that Chloe learned that word from a friend. I asked her if they used an equivalent word for girls’ privates, and so far, the answer is no. I realized during this exchange how isolated my husband must sometimes feel – a Frenchman among three females speaking American English and talking trash about wienies. Zut, alors!

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