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This wasn't in my Mommy Manual, Part Deux

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Nicklaus, my 9 year old, wakes up one morning and goes to the bathroom. When he comes out he has the most puzzled, worried look I've ever seen. He comes over to me, leans down and whispers, "Momma, there is something wrong with my woozle!" "Your woozle, what is wrong with your woozle son?" By this time his dad was in the conversation, and has a small smile on his face. Anyway, Nicklaus says, "Momma, it is standing straight up and won't bend! My underwear looked like a tent!" Oh good Lord no, not at 9 will I explain this. I look at him and tell him "Well, honey, woozles kinda fall into your dad's category, he has one, he can explain them better than I can." Hubby looks at son and tells him, "Son, don't keep picking at it, it will grow on it's own." Then he tells him it's something normal and he'll go into more detail later. So, we have now established in my home that woozles and their related functions are dad's area of expertise. I handle all tootie-what-what matters. For those of you not familiar with woozles, click here.