Here's Betsy of Fluffy Windover's Diary with this week's Toddler Thursday:

Like most toddlers, Edwin is fascinated by the potty, what goes in the potty, and which body parts are involved. We have taught him that "potty talk" is for the bathroom and not the dinner table, the playground, or Grandma's house. For the most part, he has been pretty good about that. (Of course, a play date with the five-year-old next door often reminds him that is hilarious to talk about such things, and he usually comes home with a renewed enthusiasm for such language.) Since he knows it is a no-no, he will occasionally throw around some potty terminology when he's trying to get attention (for example, when I'm on the phone... with my mother-in-law.)

The other night made me wonder if I've been too strict in my interpretation of what constitutes potty talk. He was not happy about going to bed (uh, he never is) and was protesting by calling out a string of toddler profanity. I heard him chanting from his bed, "Poop... pee pee... butt..." But he saved the most heinous term for last, finally shouting with a triumphant flourish, "UNDERWEAR!"

I know he'll be learning much, much worse language when he gets older. For now, if "underwear" is the worst he can do, I think we're doing pretty well.