Memorial Day Cookout with the next-door neighbors

We’re sitting in the back yard, finishing drinks and dinner, just enjoying conversation.

Grayson (just-turned-five-year-old): Playing like little boys do, fighting with an imaginary figure, or, in this case, the ceramic lawn statue of a very pleasant looking frog in old-man attire. Turns around towards us violently grabbing his crotch.

Mom: Grayson, do you need to go potty?

Grayson: No, Frog Man hit me in the nuts.

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