The boys were watching some cartoon in which a freezing ray was involved. “Boy, that could really freeze your testicles!” opined Dylan.
“Hey! Cut it out!” I glared at Dylan. It probably could freeze their testicles, but nothing we need to worry about in Florida. That’s more a Yankee problem and may actually explain the problems in Washington, D.C. Lots of folk there are probably attached to frozen, useless testicles that are afraid of what real people might do if they weren’t micromanaged 24/7.
“WHAT? Testicles isn’t a bad word!”
Well, he got me there.
When Mommy got here to pick up the boys, she wanted to speak to me about a word the boys were tossing about frequently in conversation, to wit ‘testicles’. “They said they got it from you!” she explained.
“Uh, no, I can’t recall my use of the word ‘testicles’ yesterday.” I thought hard. It isn’t a term I usually use unless I’m castrating, and the boys certainly wouldn’t want to hear the term ‘testicles’ in the same sentence as ‘cut off’. I couldn’t recall any instances of using the word “testicles” in friendly conversation yesterday. How would that come up in conversation? “Good morning. How are your testicles today?” “Would you like cereal, pancakes, French toast, or testicles for breakfast?” No, if the term testicles came up at all, it would probably be more along the lines of “Dylan! Do NOT kick your brother in the testicles!” but I don’t *think* that happened yesterday. I generally use more, er, farm-friendly versions of the word for those fleshy appendages. “However, the boys did have a conversation about freezing testicles this morning!” I reported to Mommy. “Actually, Dylan was having the conversation.”
“Why am I not surprised?”