got weiner?

To honor my Bohemian heritage, I recently bought my son a sponge with a picture of Christina Aguilara circa 1999 rubberbanded around it.
Ja.

Ainsley had found about Fort Belvoir's Oktoberphestenszedeutch kicking off a four-day weekend, so we decided to test our daughter's tuba tolerance and plus Ainsley wouldn't have to cook so YAY she says. It was actually more of a mini-carnival next to a few large oompa-pa tents, but it allowed Ryan to ride in his first little roller coaster and ferris wheel (strangely enough, Ainsley's too). It was a cool night, and not very crowded; we seemed to have every ride to ourselves, and could hear the German brass polka band from every corner of the park. We eventually tried a few wursts of the brat and knock variety, and as I poked a fork into Dad's condiments, it occurred to me that it wasn't going to go well, but tried it anyway:
"Ryan, would you like some saurkraut?"
I mean, is there a worse-named food? "Ryan, would you like some Rancidcrud?" "Ryan, would you like some Moldyplops?" "Ryan, would you like some spoiled yams?"
He said no.
Despite Mommy's help that the stringy, off-green flaccid strands were "just like pickles!"
At any rate, the 'hot dog' was a hit, as was the band, as Ryan danced a jig and Erin bounced and flapped. After eating a bavarian pretzel the size of a toy poodle, I tried to win the kids a giant stuffed animal, but the ol' football wouldn't get in the ol' tire hole, so Ryan got to pick out his consolation prize.

It wasn't even a hot picture of Christina Aguilara.