Olivia had a couple friends over to the house- her preschool pal Amanda and my friend's son, Max, just a year older at age eight. They all got along very well and were chasing each other around the yard and house for hours.
At the end of the night, I was saying goodbye to Max and his mother, Lea. The girls were buzzing around. I'm not sure how it came up but Max mentioned he still had "the P-touch."
Lea said, "P-touch? Give the label maker back. Is it in my bag?" She started digging through her huge mommy-purse (you know, a bag so large it won't meet an airline's carry on size restriction - we all have that, right?)
The three kids were giggling about Max and the P-touch this whole time. I then got confused and thought he must mean that little Gameboy thingy or whatever electronic game device is hip nowadays. (As opposed to when I was a youngster walking to school a mile each way in bare feet, then going home to churn butter that we milked from a cow. These newfangled toys!)
"I don't have a label maker. He means that Gameboy," I tried to clarify.
"No, he has the Gameboy. It's in his hand," Lea pointed.
"Then what's the P-touch?" I asked.
"If Auntie Diane don't have a label maker, what is the P-touch?" Lea asked her son.
"THE P-TOUCH!!!" Max laughed and bolted out the door towards their car.
The girls let out a peal of laughter. "He has the P-touch! Hahahahahahaha!"
Lea and I looked at each other with a horrid realization that he did not mean an electronic device. What the heck were they doing in Olivia's room?!? I haven't even had the birds n' bees talk with my kid yet!
P-touch. I can never look at a Brother label maker the same way.