What Is Under All that Mouse Fur?

There are certain words that make me blush and cringe and giggle, all at once. They are words that I can barely utter myself, and if someone else says them, I have to break eye contact. Call it immaturity. Label me a prude. But one of these words, a word that when I have to say it, I pause and consider finding a different word in the English language that could be used in its place so that I can avoid that moment of funniness, has become my three year old's favorite word.

Nipple.

There. I typed it.

It isn't terribly surprising that this word and body part has peaked his interest. Stella is still nursing, so it's around. Just last week I got the breastpump out so a friend could borrow it when her baby arrives.

What's this? Heath asked, holding a plastic breastshield.

It's for helping mama's make milk.

For your nipples?

His latest favorite in his Weekly Reader Animals on a Farm series is Cows. There's a picture of a large Holstein with an udder ready to explode, two calves standing by its side.

The baby cows drink mama's milk? he asks, grabbing the book so he can get a closer look at the picture.

Yes.

From its nipples?

In the car yesterday I had a conversation with someone about some special cream I used when Heath was an infant and nursing. I thought he was busy looking for trucks and construction sites, oblivious to my discussion, but apparently he was absorbing every word I said.

Nipple cream, nipple cream, Nip-PLE CREAM! he screamed, as I was unbuckling him out of his car seat. He jumped down onto the driveway and stomped his frog boots to the rhythm of his impromptu nipple boogie. NIP-ple cream. NIP! PLE! Cream-creamy!!

After a no nap day, I was super hopeful that he would take one today, but he was in the mood to chat. About nipples.

Does Spider-Man got nipples?

Yes.

Daddy's got nipples?

Yes. Here, let's read this book. I thought I could get him distracted by Mercer Mayer's All By Myself. The mouse dressed in a Police officer's uniform, directing traffic, always stops him in his tracks.

He's not wearing pants. He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. He got nipples?

I started to say no, but I hesitated. I'm not sure.

Maybe mice do have those BPA and Phthalate Free things that go at the end of baby bottles.