Or maybe it's a fork in the road.
Perhaps a traffic circle?
Anyway, we're on a metaphorical road or path of some sort and we're at the point on that road where we have to figure out what euphemism we want to use when we talk about the girls' lady business. Businesses. See? Like I said--it's a problem.
We need to get on this posthaste too, because the days when they want to discuss their...you know...junk, are virtually upon us.
Currently, they're fascinated by bodily functions, and although they don't always correctly distinguish "poo-poo" from "pee-pee," they are quite adept at pronouncing the words. And somehow, those words don't bother my wife or me. They're neither too cutesy nor too vulgar. They seem to be pretty much the preferred juvenile terminology for "feces" and "urine" nowadays, and I don't think any of their future preschool classmates and teachers will think they have negligent parents because they use the non-clinical terms.
But in addition to the stuff they see in their dirty diapers, they are also fascinated with the body parts the diapers conceal. At bathtime, they've started poking each other in the butt, saying "poo-poo," and falling into fits of laughter. I know. Comedy gold, right?
The fascination doesn't stop with the butt, either. They both dedicate a little bit of bathtime every day to exploring their crotchal areas. And again, their commentary in this context is restricted to the phrases "pee-pee" and "poo-poo," which they use interchangeably to refer to anything that happens or exists in the diapered region. I may once again be projecting my own anxieties onto the kids, but I swear that when they verbally flail around with "poo-poo pee-pee," they look at us quizzically, almost plaintively, wondering why we don't tell them the right words.