Wieners. Yep. I Went There.

"Mom," The Rock Star said from the backseat, "what's a wiener?"

I waited a good five seconds before responding. I thought about asking him to use it in context but then I would have had to explain context. Instead, I asked him to use in a sentence.

He raised his voice. "WHAT'S A WIENER?"

And I began to giggle, somewhat hysterically. He's smart, that one. I could just hear his internal monologue, That is a sentence!


"Okay. Well, it depends on how you're using it. There are different kinds of wieners." At this point I was speaking intermittently, whenever I stopped choking on my own laughter. "There are wiener dogs. Those are the ones that have long bodies and really short legs. They're called that because they look like a hot dog. Hot dogs used to be called wieners all the time. Sometimes they're still called wieners."

"Oh," he said. "So a wiener is a hot dog?"

"Yes," I declared. Then I asked, "Did you hear someone say the word wiener?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Who?"

"My friend Bob*," Garrett replied. Bob is seven. He lives up the street.

"What was he talking about?" I asked. A hot dog. Make it be about a hot dog. I thought.

"The spot right here." He pointed.

I sighed. And then I got to explain that different people use different words for their private places. In our family, we call them by their medical terms. We always have. We always will. Because I don't want my kid walking in to the doctor's office and saying something about his wiener.



*His name isn't really Bob. If that wasn't already clear. Names have been changed to protect, in this case, the not so innocent.