Big vs. Little

Colton has recently discovered the glory of the flap in his underwear.  Which, the first time, led to a hairfull of pee, for me, not for him.  I told him to wait until I had him fixed on the stepping stool, which he didn't and my hair fell in front of him.  He was so excited about seeing his little manhood through his clothes that he just couldn't contain himself and, as he, well, pissed all in my hair, squealed with delight at his new found talent.

Today, we tried again.  I was so proud.   Of myself.  I remembered to put my hair in a ponytail.

So, off he goes, giddy as can be, urinating away.  When he finished, I said, "Okay Colton, now you do what?  You put your little penis away."  Crap.  Is this where it starts?  The obsession with size?  I'm not going to be the cause of some need for a johnson competition later in life so I correct myself.  "Put your big penis behind the flap."

C- "Mommy.  It's a wittle penis."  Because, you know, he can't say his "L's" or his "R's".
Me- "Colton.  It's a big penis."
C- "No Mommy.  It's a wittle penis."

I got to nip this in the bud.  I foresee hearing penile conversations in my house when teenagers think I'm not home.  I've never been a boy and don't plan on ever becoming one and to be honest, I don't want to deal with this later in life.

Me- "Honey.  Big, little.  It doesn't matter.  The size of your penis is fine.  Just put it away behind the flap."

He smiles.  "Gabriela has a big penis."

Me- "No.  She doesn't. She has a vagina."
C- "Gabriela Catalina has a big vagina."

Not the same buddy.  Noooooooooooot the same.