Home » Rice Sock For Penis Hanging AND Hanging With Penises. . .

Rice Sock For Penis Hanging AND Hanging With Penises. . .


This is apparently what’s been leading some of you to this dysfunctional corner of the Internet.

I apologize, I haven’t a clue what a “rice sock for penis hanging” is.

(I have a few mental images. . . .making me giggle in a nervous kinda he-hee.)

Somewhat related, I recently learned from my three-year old son his toy dinosaur’s penis has a hang nail.

Ahhhhnddd thank gawd he didn’t ask me to fix it.

I don’t have a penis. . .

Or a rice sock. . .(What’s a rice sock?!)  I’d Google it, but after I Googled Mamalo, I’m swore I’d be more selective. . .More. . .I’m educated. . .I went to Law School and know to  NEVER ask a question you don’t know the answer to. . .That should apply to Google searches too no?  PROCEED WITH CAUTION!  

Yet, how gross/criminal/pornographic could rice and a sock be?!

Anywhoooo. . .I also lack knowledge about how to correct a dinosaur penis hang-nail. . .

And while I’m thinking about NEVER SILENT, NON-SENSE TALKING KIDS AND PENISES (in a completely non-creepy way):


Mac surveying his PreK Valentine’s Day loot:  “Help with these stickers.”

Me:  “Ah.  Those aren’t stickers.  They are tattoos.”

Mac:  “Help with tattoos.” (Impatiently wriggling around while I go through the process of getting the tattoos on his hot little hand.)

Mac:  “All done.  Robot tattoo.  NOW!”

Me:  “Please be patient.  Remember the instructions?  Can you help me count to 30?”

An (eternal) 30 seconds later:

Mac:  “Mackinley has tattoos on his hand.  Talk about the tattoos.  Talk about what this robot is saying.  TALK ABOUT IT!”

He’s three, predictably the fascination wore off quickly.  Mac moved on to Legos, Lunch. . .

After Lunch:

Mac:  “Mommy to hold it.”

Me:  (Cleaning up lunch AND prepping dinner) “Mommy to hold what?”


Me:  “Mommy to hold what?”

Mac:  “Mommy to hold it down so you don’t get tinkles on it.”

Ah-ha!  He wants me to hold his penis while he urinates because he’s afraid he’s going to somehow ming up the temporary tattoos if he urinates on them or has to do the requisite hand washing following using the toilet.

 Smart.  Resourceful.  

BAHAHAHAHAH.  Not.  A.  Chance, KID!!!


Me:  (small sigh), “How ’bout you just use the other hand, Smootchiebears?”