That’s Not What Mine Looks Like

(Slightly graphic details ahead. You’ve been warned.)

I guess it's the age, The Boy is really getting into his genitals. Yesterday while on the toilet he was rolling back his foreskin and checking out the goods inside. Pooing and playing with himself, a true multi-tasker.

I brought him a dinosaur book, made a face, and gave him some privacy.

Suddenly, “Hey guys! Come here. Take a look at this.”

We don’t move. I know it’s innocent self-discovery, but it still weirds us out.

“Come here. It has horns.”

“What?”

“Horns, it has horns.”

“What has horns?”

“Come here.”

P and I are perplexed, “I hope he isn’t talking about his penis.”

I poke my head in the door and, thankfully, he’s pointing to a dinosaur in the book.

Whew! But what if it really did have horns? Next thing you know he’d be in a freak show, touring, and making good money. And I always had him pegged as a doctor.