Weasel Seashells by the Seashore

Connor is wriggling around in my lap and I say to him. My goodness! It’s like holding a weasel!
He looks at me quizzically.
“Do you know what a weasel is?”  I ask him.
“No”, he says.
“It’s like a ferret”, I say.
“Do you know what a ferret is?” I ask.
“Yes”, he says, smugly. But he says it like a 15 year old girl… everything but the eye roll.
“What’s a ferret?”, I ask.
“It’s like a weasel.”