the adlards

Now Josie’s language is developing so fast (SO fast) I’m not allowed to use a lot of words I’ve grown accustomed to. Jo’s recently been heard muttering, “sit” when she loses her balance, drops things or runs into things. I gather from the attendant glares from MGW that she’s not, in fact, stating her desire to recline and that, what is more, I am largely to blame. I don’t know why. When I lose my balance, drop things or run into things I don’t mutter “sit” … I don’t mutter anything.

Perhaps most frustrating of all the words I May Not Use is the word “fart”. Apparently it’s unladylike (the word, not the action. Ummm. The word, not just the action? Oh I don’t know). So what are the alternatives? The word my – clearly deeply misguided – parents used when we were small was banished from my lexicon by Michelle some fifteen years ago and, having grown away from it for some time now, I don’t believe I could bring myself to type it let alone use it. I mean let’s face it, “poof-wind” is just a little too close to the truth. It also doesn’t work well as a verb in the past tense.

So I’m left floundering. I’ll be walking up to the house behind Josie; phooop goes her tiny sphincter and what do I say? I can’t laugh and say, “Haha! You farted!”. I’ve been resorting rather lamely to, “What was that?” which kind of leaves it up to her and is altogether unsatisfactory.

I think I may have come up with a solution this evening. Butt faeries. They’ll let me scream with laughter inside my head without, so far as I can tell before consulting MGW, compromising any of the laws of Decent Behaviour. Phoop, “Wow, look at that butt faerie go!”
You think?

All of which reminds me that Michelle had a cracking evening babysitting last night. She actually came home giggling. Our friends, let’s call them Bob and Julia, were going to a fancy dress party. They are accomplished performers and costume-and-set designers in their own right, so this kind of thing isn’t just something they enjoy, it’s something they do very well. Unfortunately they’d got the wrong night. Apparently their friend was quietly vacuuming her front room when she looked up and saw Godzilla and a poo approaching her front door. I almost said, “Imagine her surprise”, but it’s kind of implicit.
Bob and Julia had a very nice dinner together, presumably sans costume. Michelle bottle-fed and rocked their youngest to sleep, which she found a real pleasure – neither of ours have taken a bottle yet.

After tonight’s refried beans the butt faeries are going to have to employ their very own little traffic police.

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 29th, 2005 at 10:01 pm by james and is filed under Friends, Ramblings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.