Yep, you read that title right. My daughter. And her wee-wee. Before you freak out, here’s a picture of her sitting on it.

She’s called it that since she could talk because we’ve always said, “WEEEEEEE!” together whenever she rides it. Makes sense, eh? Trust me, I’ve tried to get her to start calling it her giraffe. Or her rocking toy. Or honestly ANYTHING other than her wee-wee.

But wee-wee stuck, so wee-wee it is.

The more I thought about it the worse I felt about trying to make her change the name she came up with for her toy. Just because it’s not “conventional.” It’s not “normal.” It makes me blush a little bit when we have company over and Gracie asks to play with it. Or when I have to use it for leverage, and say something like, “Gracie, Momma’s going to take your wee-wee away if you don’t stop coloring on it! Remember, sweetie? We only color on PAPER.” (Put that right at the top of things I never thought I’d be saying to my 2-year old daughter.)

Shouldn’t I be celebrating her creativity? Or at least encouraging her to tread her own path, come up with ideas, and stick to her guns? Or something like that? Probably.

But for now, I’ll likely just hope that Parker comes up with a different name for it. Fingers crossed.