My four year old came down the stairs while I was making dinner. “Dad? What do you call the thing below my jingler.” “Jingler”, in our parlance, is penis.
“Well…” I said
“It looks like a bag!” he said.
“Well…” I said. “It’s sometimes called that, yes.”
“Or a sack.” I offered.
“But what do you really call it – really?” he pleaded
“A scrotum,” I said.
“A scrotum?” He was not at all happy with that crappy word.
“Or your balls,” I said.
“Your balls,” I reiterated. “Like ball sack.”
“Mom!” he yelled, turning back up the stairs. “Dad said I can call it my balls!”
I know now that he asked his mom that same question and she said, as every mother does (who can), “Go ask your dad.”
Well… He’s got a word for it. And it’s a pretty common word. I think this was a win as a dad. I’m not sure though. Unless he brings it up in polite society as I would never do.