Doodles and Daughters
Isla, 17 months, takes great delight when Daddy goes for a shower as she gets the chance to see some anatomy she normally doesn't get to see.
She approaches me, points at it, and says, "Daughter."
"No, you're my daughter."
"Daughter. Touch it. Isla touch it."
Somewhere along the line she has confused the word doodle with daughter. It's apt.
I'm calling it a penis now. She doesn't care. This morning it was still my daughter. She gives it a squeeze, laughs, then toddles off to do something else.