Because we don't use baby words, I despise the word weiner, and slang terms just aren't appropriate, I told him the straight truth.
"It is your penis." He said ok. And we moved along.
The next morning repeated the same initial scenario. This time he grabbed it, quite enthusiastically I might note, and asked, "What's that?"
I said, "Do you remember what I told you yesterday?"
He said, "Oh. That's my penis!"
Yes, I say.
He seem to think about it a moment or two before exclaiming, "ELEPHANTS EAT PENIS!"
Hmmmm. How to be serious when you want to burst into laughter.
The next week, when he joined me in the bathroom uninvited, he told me "Daddy has a penis."
"He does," I said.
"Where's your penis, Mommy?
"Remember, Mommy does not have a penis, babe."
He seemed to think on this a moment.
This has gone on intermittently but never quite with an audience as last weekend when we were parked in Delta's Crown Room before our flight. I took him into the bathroom with me and in his most lively and jovial voice he asks,
"Are you going peepee Mommy?"
"I don't see your penis."
"I don't have a penis, honey."
"Daddy has a penis!"
"GET A PENIS, MOMMY!" as he delightedly claps and jumps around. "GET A PENIS, GET A PENIS. JUST LIKE ME AND DADDY!"
I can honestly note no such words have ever been spoken to me before. And I of course, could hear the tittering laughter from the stalls around me.
And yes, I might still be fairly new at the parenting, but I know this is just the beginning.