Is That a Ten-Inch Lollipop or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

As I was sitting here typing, the Princess was getting into a half-open box of stuff we never unpacked after our last move. You know those boxes? The ones that have stuff in them that you just can't bear to get rid of, like a mixed tape your seventh-grade boyfriend gave you, and an old plane ticket for that trip where you went to visit the old boyfriend and ended up dumping him and sleeping with his roommate?

So, the Princess was playing with stuff in this box, and, eagle-eyed mother that I am, I noticed (read: saw out of the corner of my eye while debating about whether organic oranges were worth the price) that a long stick was poking out of the box and threatening to stab her in the eye. She had grabbed the stick and was playing with whatever it was attached to.

So I went and pulled the stick away from her, and lo and behold, she had been playing with a large, candied penis.

No, I am not kidding. The King used to live in Japan, and they have these fertility festivals there, and they aren't all psycho-Puritan about sex like we Americans are, and they give kids big, candy genitalia to suck on and wave around. Like X-rated lollipops. I dug around in the box a bit more and came up with three more lollipops--two penises and one rather girlish vagina.

So now my daughter is playing with her penises and vagina and enjoying herself thoroughly. What, I was supposed to take them away from her? If they're good enough for Japanese kids, they're good enough for us.