My family likes to drink Orangina (pronounced Orange-Geena) which is basically citrus-flavored soda. Last weekend, my fourteen-year-old son, Cole, and his buddy, Kyler, were standing in front of our refrigerator, staring at the contents within.
“I guess I will have an Orange-Gyna,” Kyler said. It is important to note here that Kyler pronounced Orangina startlingly close to the word vagina.
“Oh my God,” Cole said. “Did you just say Orange-Gyna?”
Kyler, realizing his error, started to laugh.
“You have ruined my favorite soda,” my son said. “I can never drink this again. Orange-Gyna is not a refreshing beverage; it’s a sexually transmitted disease.”
At this point, Cole broke into a voice accent, like a dopey fraternity brother or South Park character. “I’ve got major problems,” he mimicked. “My girlfriends got Orange-Gyna.”
Cole and Kyler rolled with laughter.
My family now refers to Orange-Geena only as Orange-Gyna. Yesterday Cole wrote on my grocery list, “Buy more STD.”