Yesterday, I was in the living room "reading."
Air quotes because "reading" quickly turned into "closing my eyes for a minute in the dark because I had a dumb headache."
So I hear Brooke call out from the other room, "Mom where are you?"
And I say, "In here, resting my eyeballs."
And she comes rushing in and says worriedly, "You got kicked in the balls?!"
OK. Timeout while I paint the picture for you: my sweet blonde-headed princess girl with her little five year old voice saying such a thing.
So of course I'm all like, "What??"
And she crawls up into my lap and says, "I thought you said you got kicked in the balls," while sucking her finger and snuggling into me with her blanket. It was a very sweet moment. And I was momentarily distracted by the sweetness and snuggling.
Then I was all like, "Where did you hear that word?"
And she's all like, "Daddy said it the other day when Alex kicked him when they were wrestling."
And I said, while inwardly scowling at my husband, "Well, we don't say balls."
And she sits there for a minute, thinking it over. And then she's like, "Well did you get kicked in the penis then?"
So we've established that A) Brooke needs some clarification on anatomy, and B) Dad needs some clarification on appropriate responses to searing pain in front of little girls.