Exactly. They’re little kids and they’re going to say crazy stuff. Anyone who’d get in a huff or think poorly of your parenting is a little off-center.
A cow-orker of mine taught her daughter that everything below the waist, and the products thereof, was to be called po-po. It’s already led to confusion and frustration, I can only guess how it will be when the girl gets to school age.
That said, I like the euphemisms, they can be fascinating.
We didn’t get a chance to discuss it, as said 2.5-year-old was in the room when this came up, so an extended conversation wasn’t possible. I’d guess, given what else I know about the parents, that it’s either category 3 or 4.
That said, I didn’t intend this as a referendum on my friends’ parenting choices, even though I disagree with them. I just got curious about how people handle the correct anatomical terms for embarrassing body parts when it comes to young’ns. This thread has already been pretty interesting in that regard – it just hadn’t occurred to me that people would be unwilling to teach their kids correct terminology at that age, as I figured that’d be less embarrassing than baby-talk euphemisms. Obviously, different words embarrass different people, as I should have remembered.
Exactly, well put.
There’s also a bit of group-think involved: you tend to use whatever terms other parents also teach thier kids. If all the other kids & parents are using pee-pee as the polite term, you shrug and go with the flow. FWIW, my boy knew the word “penis”, we didn’t tell him not to use it, but consistently use “pee pee” because everyone else did.
I thought pee-pee was what comes out of a penis!
Ah, just tell the kid to call it “masculine genitalia.”
Now, considering this point, I still ask my teenaged children if they need to go potty, or to go potty before we leave to run errands. When my daughter complains of a stomach ache, I ask her when was the last time she went poopy.
Hmmm. I may need to update my terminology.
Clearly you missed the memorable dinner with my family, in which I had on one side Mom, an Aunt, and three daughters (all of the women work in the healthcare field) discussing bodily functions with great abandon, and on the other side Uncle bellowing into deaf Grampa’s ear, “And how many tits *does * a sow have, pappy?”
I found out recently that my buddy has taught his <2 year old boy this word, and finds it really funny when the boy says it.
I told him, “You know, he WILL say it as you’re shaking hands goodbye with the pastor.”
OTOH, my nurse mother taught me the innie-bump on my belly was an “umbilicus”, which is one of the most geeky proper terms ever. I’ve almost never heard anyone say it, ever. So the proper terms can be over used.
It would be a shame if this couple passed on their Victorian inhibitions to their child. Personally, anyone who has a problem with a child saying the word “penis” has much bigger problems to be concerned about.
What’s wrong with Victorian inhibitions?
I’ve always found it odd/funny/sad that Western culture considers the parts that have the power to create new life to be shameful.
In the past, it was not unusual for a Native brave to receive a name such as Penis or Testicles for doing something honorable or passing a test - it was considered a sign of his masculinity and worth as a man.
“Hi there, my name’s Testicles Johnson! Wanna hear what I did to earn that name?”
My neighbor taught her daughter to call her vulva her “peach”. Ick.
Hmmm. If you really wanted to mess a kid up, you could tell him to call his nose a “penis” and his penis a “nose,” or something like that. 
Would be fun when another person (teacher or something) says “kid, you have such a snivelling cold - fetch some Kleenex and blow your nose!”
I have a friend whose husband used to exclaim “Ew sicky” when he’d change his daughter’s dirty diaper. When she started talking she’d repeat it. Somehow she started thinking her vagina was an “ew sicky” and the nickname stuck. I wonder if she, at seventeen, still thinks of her vagina as an “ew sicky”.
I’d ask her, but I have a feeling we’d both be horribly embarrassed!
Penis is the correct term. True, maybe at 2yo, it might cause an :eek: for the parents of someone else, but later on, you’ll chuckle over it.
I taught my son to say “Bowel Movement” and “urine” instead of “poo-poo” and “pee-pee”. His teacher complained when he asked in class to go to the bathroom, and the teacher asked what for*, and he said “a bowel movement” and all the kids laughed. But I told her she was wrong; that the kids would have giggled at “poo-poo” or “#2” or any other silly term. And, if he had a medical problem, I hope he’d tell the doctor is was a “problem with his bowel movement” not “I have a poo-poo problem”.
*WHY? 
So, sure- if the kid at 2 has to know a term for his penis, it should be penis.
When I was growing up, my mom used “bird” and “dingy” as sort of unisex names for the naughty bits. I’m not sure how much prudery was involved, but I always thought they were funny, nonoffensive names for the parts in question. Since my parents never objected to my reading pretty much anything I could get my hands on (including “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask)”) at a young age, my use of those terms didn’t cause me any lasting harm.
The one that really cracks me up, though, is my late grandfather, who used to refer to a woman’s breasts as “her accoutrements” (not pronounced the proper French way, but as “uh-COO-tra-ments.”) I was probably ten years old before I realized that wasn’t the correct name for them, because for some reason my mom started using it as well, and we didn’t have too much cause to discuss them in public.
I have a weird family. 
“Penis” is no more offensive than “nose,” “elbow,” or “earlobe.”
(No, not earlobe! Anything but that!)
This actually happened to me. I consider it a very humorous anecdote in my daughter’s history. My pediatrician advised against cutsie names for body parts. My ex and I agreed with the philosophy so The Princess[sup]TM[/sup] was taught “vagina” and “penis” for the appropriate body parts. One day when she was about two I was in the grocery with her sitting in the cart when she began to spout “Mom, does that man have a penis?” in a very loud voice. Not once but several times. So we had a little talk about how the subject was one that we didn’t shout at the top of our lungs in cereal aisle. That was much easier to deal with than her five year old brother spouting off about his “big dick.” :rolleyes: