I have a confession to make.
My son likes boobies.
And by boobies, I do mean blueberries. Remember the good old days when he called them boo-boo-booies? Apparently he decided to be a little more concise. So now he does things like mention to Alex on Thanksgiving, "Akees, eat boobies." Or tell me in the mornings, "More boobies."
I'm sure you can imagine how this should make me feel. I should be more carefully enunciating each syllable. I should be telling him, "No, Milo, blueberries, not boobies." What I should not be doing is laughing, but that's exactly what I do every single time.
This morning it got even more impossible to keep a straight face, because I made him blueberry pancakes, which he then spent the whole morning referring to as "boobiecakes." I'm sorry, but there's no recovering from that one.
And really, would correcting do any good for this little guy who in response to my, "Okie dokie" today told me, "Mommy, I say dokie dokie."
So boobies it is.