Benjamin splashes in the bathtub as I lean over the side.
He plunges a toy squirting frog under the water and squeezes it, then lets it slowly draw in its fill. “My frog loves the water,” he says.
“Yep, most frogs do. You know, frogs are amphibians. That means they live on the land or the water. Or both,” I say. Then I consider that reptiles fit that description, too, and go on to distinguish the two. “Amphibians start out breathing underwater, and then they switch and breathe the air.”
“Frogs are amphibians?” Benjamin says and squirts water from the frog to the tub wall.
He makes a glug-glug noise as he again sinks the frog to the bathwater’s depths for a refill.
“My pee-pee’s not an amphibian,” he says.
Accustomed to conversations turning to someone’s bottom, a toot, or Ben’s privates, I dial my laughter down to a chuckle and say, “No, son, it isn’t.”