Your mom knows that you and PJM aren't chaste.
Remember him grabbing her butt?

My kids have never quite taken it that far, thank god. But I did have a similar sort of thing once...

I used to have (and actually still do) a wooden artist's mannequin that sat on the back of my desk at home. I named it Woody and used to occasionally re-pose it as I went by, usually sitting with his feet hanging off the edge of the desk or some such.

Nurse Ratched used to give it to my son to play with when he was about two, despite my requests that she keep it from him. He would wrench on the thing terribly, and over time the articulations stopped working as well. Finally one day after a fight over this with my wife, I put the damn thing away in a closet.

My son came through looking for it to play with, and loudly said, "Dad, where's your Woody?"

"That's a rather personal question, son," I replied with a straight face. "You need to go ask your mother that one."

He turned and asked her, "Mom? Where's Dad's Woody?"

I smiled as she turned interesting shades of red.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 16 Jan 2009, 14:27, Reply)