Issue #4,763

Some of our dear friends in New Mexico decided that when it came to the discussion of "boy parts" with their little boys, they would use the anatomically correct terminology.

Well, their boys translated the official terminology into the term "peanuts," and the phrase stuck.

So when my very impressionable, highly linguistic 18 moth old son heard the term, he decided that it was his phrase of choice for the all-important boy-part discussions that somehow seem to come up every single day in our house.

So you can imagine the confusion that ensued when someone gave us a "Curious George Visits the Zoo" last year. In this book, The Man with the Yellow Hat buys George a bag of peanuts. George then goes on to feed the peanuts to the lions, and the giraffes, and the seals, until the zoo keeper freaks out and tells George to stop giving his peanuts to the animals. Poor George is sitting on the bench feeling very badly, until the missing zoo-bird swoops down and snatches the peanut George was holding, right out of his hands. In the end, George and his peanuts save the day.

The Entertainer has always had a funny look on his face when we read that book. But here's the worst part: I didn't even make the connection until TODAY.

We were sitting at lunch eating our peanut butter sandwiches, when the Entertainer asks, "Mommy, will I eat peanuts when I go to the zoo?"

"Sure buddy," I mindlessly respond.

"Really?" He asks. I glance up to see that his face is lost in bewilderment.

And that is when I realize that for the last year and a half, I have been giving my youngest son "issues".
I can just immagine the conversation with his therapist in 20 years. "Well my mother always read me this book about Curious George and his peanuts, only I thought she was saying penis..."

Good golly, what will happen when his first grade class takes a field-trip to the zoo for the first time? (Mental note, I better make sure to chaperon on that one... )

Oh the issues are going to run deep! My poor scarred boy, I am giving this post a number, so that you can easily pull it up when you start therapy, to work through you "peanut" issues.

Oy. It's a miracle they survive at all.

Ahh! I just had a horrible thought!!!
What does he think peanut butter sandwiches are made out of?!?!