just one reason why people look at me weirdly

a brand new pet name
totally unexpected
and totally weird

The wee one has stopped calling me "mommy."

He calls me Woody now.

"Let’s go outside, Woody!"
"Woody, can I have a popsicle?"
"You be a troll, Woody!"
"Woody! Woody! I need to tinkle in the potty!"

I have to call him Buzz. If I don’t, he gets very upset.

So thanks to the magic of Disney brainwashing, my three-year-old son has named me after the slang for erection (well, that’s not really fair to Disney, but so what).

Our Buzz and Woody monikers earn us some pretty strange looks at the playground, but, you know what? I don’t mind being called Woody (as long as its only by my son, who knows nothing of slang).

My husband, however, has been renamed Jessie the Cowgirl, and he’s not totally jiggy with it.

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