Posted by: Wagons Ho | January 19, 2012

You say nipple, I say…

First thing in the morning Trapp comes busting into the bathroom, yelling like he was being murdered. “Mommy!!! I have a nipple on my thumb!”

Ummm… ” You have a what?”

“I have a nipple on my thumb! A nipple mommy.”

Stifling laughter I get out “I don’t understand what that is. Let mommy see it.”

“No! It’s a nipple mommy. I got it when I was in the yard yesterday.” He’s holding his hand up in the air like he’s trying to slow down the flow of blood from a severed artery.

After a few more exchanges he finally let’s me see it. Luckily it was not a nipple but a splinter, which made much more sense. I took care of it and said a silent prayer that he would quit calling it a nipple by the time he told the story at school. God only knows what kind of letter they send you when your kid is telling nipple stories in kindergarten.

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