Corndog, the verb tense

One day earlier this week Ben came to Earle and I and staunchly reported that his brother had said a bad word. We get this quite often from both of the boys and usually the word that they think is a bad word is not a bad word. So we asked him what the word was. Of course he would not tell us because in his head it was a bad word and he did not feel he could actually say it to us for fear of punishment. We told him that it was okay, and after going round and round about this we asked him what letter it started with. He told us it started with an "H". We finally got around to figuring out that Collin had said the word "hate".  We then asked Ben to tell us how he said it. Once again, Ben refused because he did not want to get into trouble. So Earle had the brilliant idea of trying to give Ben a different word to use in place of hate so that Ben would use it in the sentence that Collin said it to him. Earle told him to say the word, "Corndog" instead of hate. Of course what Ben told us that Collin said to him was, "Ben, I corndog you." Collin was in trouble because he is definitely not supposed to say that to people, but it began to be a game somehow of using corndog as a code for hate which obviously we never intended. The boys just think that the word corndog is fun to use, and they don't really know what a corndog is. All week, I have been telling them not to say "corndog" because of how they are using it as a code for "hate". But it all sounds so ridiculous to get into deep discussions about the word "corndog". This morning, the four of us went to have coffee at Starbucks for breakfast before Ben's game. Earle and I were chatting, and there were quite a few small tables of people within earshot of our table. Earle and I paused our conversation to hear Collin and Ben very seriously listing the things that they corndogged. Collin commented that he corndogged strangers. And Ben commented that he corndogged men. Collin also commented that his "big softie(security blanket he sleeps with)" corndogged Daddy. People were giving us somewhat strange side glances because of how all of this sounds. I was horrified and looking at Earle like, "I cannot believe you taught them to say CORNDOG"! It sounds horrid and they have no idea what it sounds like they are referring to! Earle still can't help but smirk and giggle when all this is happening. We quickly finished up and threw away our trash and left. The more we try to get them to stop the funnier that they think it is. We need to come up with another word. I corndog corndog.
~CB