Me: Clownfish, what did you just say?
CF: TESTicles! Fun TESTicles!
Me: That's great. Where did you learn that word?
CF: It's Spanish.
Hmm... we've been teaching Clownfish a little Spanish, and he learns a bit from Diego, Dora the Explorer, etc., so occasionally he makes up words and tells us they're Spanish. Still struggling to keep a straight face, I ask the obvious follow up.
Me: So what does it mean?
CF: Good job. Fun testicles is do a good job.
At this point, parents and friends, I would like to say I continued my controlled, calm, matter of fact demeanor. I would like to say that we talked a little more about how making up words is not the same as Spanish, and throw in a discussion of the names of body parts to boot. You know, a nice little moment of parenting before we read a storybook. I would like to say that. But, people, could you have done it? I could not. At this point, my friends,
I was laughing so hard, that silent, body-shaking laughter, that I couldn't breathe. After a few minutes, tears streaming down my face, I tried to take some deep breaths and turn back to face him, to see him happily, obliviously sitting on the couch, flipping through his book, quietly repeating fun testicles and I lost it again.
But in my oxygen deprived state, inspiration struck me.
Me: Wait, Clownfish, did you mean fantastico?
CF: That's what I said: fun TESTicle!