Eu-phe-mism
noun 1: the substitution of a mild, indirect, vague *(or funny) expression for one
thought to be offensive, harsh, blunt or *( too clinical)
* added by me
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When the kids were still really little I was advised by a friend that I teach the kids the correct words for their body parts. I wasn't having any of it. I had long since decided I wasn't going to do that as a result of an incident I had witnessed before having kids.
A man was at the park with his daughter, she was in a full body snowsuit and he was holding by the wrists swinging her in circles. Eventually the suit began to ride up and give her wedgie - she yelled "DADDY!! STOP!! You're hurting my vagina!" The cool crisp winter air carried that cry across the prairie landing on every ear in a 20 mile radius.
I knew then and there that if I ever had kids they were getting goofy words for their parts.
Clancy had a petunia her brother - a twig and berries. As they have evolved so has the list of names for their bits, they know the right words but, like me, think they others ones are way funnier.
In recent months 10 year old Clancy has come to adore the word "balls".
She knows when not to use the expression - pretty much anywhere but at home with the rest of her nutty, oops, family - but she loves the word nonetheless and when she is sad all I have to do is whisper balls in her ear and she cracks up.
Last summer Jack got a double marble run - two sides twisting and turning and intertwining, you start a marble at the top of each at the same time and see which comes down first but the game only came with a half dozen identical red balls.
Clancy, her dad and I were at the kitchen table, fully clothed, finishing breakfast. Jack came into the kitchen wearing only underwear (his favourite weekend outfit if he doesn't have anything on his calendar) and asked if he could have a Sharpie to mark his balls.
We all laughed out loud and Clancy was near tears, clamping her legs together to stop from peeing herself.
"What?" asked Jack, "I just want to know which is which."
That did her in, we had to mop up her "spill".
It will forever be a favorite family moment, never forgotten.
A few days ago I used the expression grow some balls, the kids asked what it meant and I explained.
Yesterday Clancy said: "I have a joke."
"What?"
"Why don’t you grow some bulbs?!"
I laughed, I mopped MY spill. Like mother, like daughter.
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