When we came home from school yesterday there was a dachshund running around our yard. I had a bunch of stuff to bring in from the car, and in the coming and going from garage to house the dog managed to get inside. As you can imagine, both children were beside themselves with glee. The dog seemed nice enough, and I did have Important Stuff to do, so I didn't think there would be much harm in letting her sniff around and entertain the children for a bit. Soon our visitor became "our dog." I had to nip that in the bud right away, explaining to Elena that she was just visiting and would have to be returned to her rightful owner . . . soon. Still, it didn't stop Elena from naming her new temporary pet. I had made the mistake of telling her that this particular breed of dog is sometimes known as a wiener dog. A blank stare meant I had to give her the (clean) definition of wiener ("you know, like a hot dog? doesn't she look like a hot dog?"). And so she was named "Midnight (for her dark fur) Wiener."
You think it's funny until the dog escapes and your child is running around the neighborhood screaming, "Midnight Wiener! Midnight Wiener! Come back, Wiener!!!"
And we wonder why 2 out of 3 neighbors have their homes up for sale.