Kids are gross. Awesome...but gross. Lately, when I take off my daughter's diaper and reach for a new one, she quickly stacks something on her lady part. A couple of days ago it was a binky. This afternoon it was a strawberry. It doesn't matter the item, she will place it there and that is that. So this morning, she was trying to go potty in the training toilet. (Also affectionately known as The Turtle. See below.)
I look over, and see her rubbing her bottle against herself. Out of desperation, I sighed and said, "Hey! Don't. Stick. Things. On. Your. Cootchie! It's yucky!". She proceeded to giggle, look over at her brother and say, "Watch. Baba on cooootcheeee," and continued to repeat the word cootchie until she felt like she got it all out of her system.
A couple of days ago, I had a friend coming over to visit in the afternoon. I realized that my house smelled like the eggs we had eaten earlier that morning, and I decided to whip out the air freshener spray. My son popped his head out of his bedroom and looked at me with bewilderment. I told him I was spraying the house so it isn't stinky. Then he tells me, "Mom. Our house smell like a big fart." Nice. Thanks, son.
Between my farty house, my overly honest son, and my cootchie stuffing daughter, I'm thinking I need a girls night.
Sincerely,
Me.
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