Blue balls, anyone?

I’m years away from the sex talk, but here’s a funny precursor.  My daughter loves balls.  Blue balls.  No, she hasn’t been traumatized by seeing my husband in his birthday suit.  I’m talking about a set of good old-fashioned plastic balls.

Two weeks ago, Emory’s Maw Maw bought her an inflatable castle filled with multi-colored plastic balls.  She spends hours in her fortress, tossing balls in and out.  But recently, we picked up on a trend. She only throws the blue balls.  No purple. No yellow.  No pink. Just big fat blue balls.

Blue balls have become her favorite playmate.  When it’s time for lunch, she parades into the kitchen, blue balls in hand.  They sit on her food tray next to her juice and a bowl of mac & cheese.  Time to go to the park?  The blue balls are in tow and join her in the sandbox.  The best – the balls travel to the doctor.  Try explaining that to a pediatrician with a straight face – “Yeah, Doc…she’s obsessed with blue balls.”

Not quite sure what all of this means.  Probably nothing. Then again, one month ago at a restaurant, Emory grabbed our waiter’s crotch.

Hmm…perhaps the sex talk is coming sooner than later!

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One Response to “Blue balls, anyone?”

  1. Garett C Says:

    And scene…check please.

    That’s funny.

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