The munchkins and I were talking about R-rated movies this morning. My 15-year-old mentioned a movie he had seen when he was younger.

“I remember there were these people and they were in a carnival fun house,” he said, “and they were going through all these horror movies. There was this one girl who’d had a boob job, but they hadn’t used the regular stuff; they had used something like water balloons. Anyway, her boob came alive and had a mouth and started eating people.”

“That was your first R-rated movie?” I asked him incredulously.

“No, not the first. I just remember it because it was my first boob movie.”

Boob movie. I love my kids.