It's a Wiener

It all started with the cinnamon balls. My Daisy troop was making part one of their Christmas project, cinnamon applesauce ornament dough rolled into little balls so as to fit inside a paper ornament. As I was the one who brought the cookie sheets for the balls to dry on, they balls came home with me.

I put the three ball filled cookie sheets on the dining room table and didn’t think about them again until Ashleigh came downstairs and made the comment, “Mmmm, Cinnamony.”

“Yup. All my cinnamon balls smell l good.” I replied.

Ashleigh smirked. “That just sounds wrong, Mommy.”

“What?” I say, “Cinnamon balls.”

“Yes,” she replies with a giggle and a blush furiously creeping up her cheeks.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says.

“Oh,” I say, “Has someone learned some new word meanings.”

More blushing and snickering and a small little nod.

So my response? I burst into a song about dangly parts and cinnamon balls. Ashleigh’s response? Fleeing upstairs.

What’s a mom to do? Of course I chased her singing and snickering. And there at the top of the stairs stood a pajama clad Cyra.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’m teasing Ashleigh.” I say.

“Cool. Can I help?”

“NO!” shouts Ashleigh. “I’m going to bed.”

“What are you singing about?”

“Dangly parts.” I say with a laugh. “Now off to bed with you all.”

Cyra walked to the door of her room and paused with a hand on her hip.

“I know what they are called, Mommy,” she says.

“Really?” I say and look at Ashleigh. “What are they called?”

With a blushing grin she says, “It’s a wiener.”