Before deciding this wasn't the right point in life for me to actually enter the grad program I'd been accepted into, I was about a month away from beginning a Women's, Gender, and Sexuality master's program. I only mention that because it was the natural conclusion to the years in college spent researching and reading about those three things, and making feeble efforts to introduce them to other people.
The two year old who I am going to be potty training soon has been taught to refer to his penis as his turtle.
This is slowly killing me inside. I'm not exactly a vehement crusader, but get me in the right mood and I can be. This will put me there. All his mother is doing is reinforcing the concept that it is shameful, that the correct word is dirty, and that it's something best not discussed. And I have to go along with it. I don't even want to think about it. I'm not sure I can say "turtle" in that context (also, seriously, turtle?), but I'm not sure how to potty train without it.
Naturally, this only reinforces my desire to give up this life of nannying and have my own kid, so I can make all my own decisions.