I wish I was an Oscar Meyer......

The other day, as I was unloading groceries and putting them away, Cameron was hanging out in the kitchen. I showed him that I bought him the hot dogs that he likes before tucking them away in the meat drawer in the fridge. But suddenly, he gasped, and asked me if he could see the package again.

When he read the covering of the hot dogs, he keeled over in a ridiculous fit of laughter.

"Wieners! That says wieners!"

The boy could not stop laughing. He was in complete hysterics. "That says wieners! They're calling their hot dogs wieners! Why would they do that!"

He has now been way too obsessed with this new found knowledge. First of all, like when he discovered the truth behind Santa, he feels it's his duty to educate everyone about this moniker.

Secondly, he finds it necessary to emphasize the word with extreme volume and high-pitched exaggeration every time he uses it.

And thirdly, he now must refer to the "wieners" any chance he gets.

Yesterday, my husband was grilling some of those Oscar Meyers that started all this.

Cameron's comment: "I'm glad that's not my wiener you're grilling!"

I wonder how long this fascination will last. Because now Max is getting in on all the fun. it's a bit embarrassing...especially when they start shouting about it in public.