Friday, February 24, 2012

Are the Pooping Babies hereditary?

The other day I was in the shower and Violet came in to do her business.  I was not thrilled with the idea - just because butt-smell particles are small doesn't mean they're not still particles floating all around me while I'm trying to get clean from said particles.  But anyway.  So I just stood there for a while enjoying the water beating down on me waiting for her to pull me out of my hot watery paradise by asking me to wipe her butt.

But I was standing there a really long time before I realized she was talking, but not to me.  So I started listening and I shit you not, she was giving her doll a lesson in bathroom etiquette.  Maybe this isn't quite as bad as my Pooping Babies since at least she was talking to a physical object, but she was teaching it not to stand up until it's done going potty, and to always wipe front to back, and to make sure to hold your dress up in the back so you don't get any poopy on it.  Standing there in the shower, peeking out from behind the curtain, it felt like I was Future Me looking back at Little Girl Me.  I wondered if I should warn her of a future incident where her and a few friends are standing in a circle in a long hall somewhere and she's considering farting but she should not let loose because it's going to make a noticeable sound even though it feels like a silent one.

Now the whole thing has me wondering if maybe The Pooping Babies were real.  And The Floating Fish and The Acid Monster.  And maybe all my stuffed animals really did get sad and miss me when I finally gave them away.  And maybe John John was real.  Maybe Violet and I have this weird sensitivity to some other dimension where really fucked-up-yet-benignant things live.  Or maybe all these things were planted in my head and travelled across the placenta into Violet!  AH!!

I'm going to keep that thought in the back of my head, but the sane, non-conspiracy theorist (deep) inside me is going to assume it's the weirdo imagination she inherited.  But if I start seeing her strip her plush stuffed things and sticking the fur in her nose (the sensation is divine I tell you), I'm getting worried.

What's weird is I found this on google but I swear it might actually be the tiger I stripped.  I'm not even going to search for "naked Big Bird".

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