A harlot and a toilet. Yup, that's what I said...

This little ditty has nothing to do with my son.  Shocking, I know.  Every once in a while I have to break with all the OT, PT, Child Psych, Speech and everything else that goes with it and tell you a little something about us.  This happened yesterday and I swear, other than playing Domino's, it's all true.  If you don't want to hear about harlots, toilets and tampons, now's your chance to hit the 'back' or 'next blog' button.

So my sister and her husband came over for dinner two nights ago.  The kids haven't seen them in ages so they were perfect angels.  And by that I mean they were the kind of angels that kicked their uncle in the gut, his privates, and anything else within striking distance.  To which my sister mumbles something like "jeesh, Lizzy's a little harlot tonight."  Now I have no idea why she said it and I really didn't think it was all that loud.  I guess I've been listening to my I-pod on too high of a setting for too long because I hear, "mom's what's a harlot?" from within striking range to which I nonchalantly said, "I don't know, go ask your Aunt" and then I left the kitchen to go up to the bathroom and play Domino's.

When I come back downstairs, I think everything is OK and everyones all moved on to something else which they have, namely riding their uncle like a small Shetland pony.  They were not riding me like a pony so I went with it. 

Fast forward.  We go to school the next day and about midway through the morning I get a call.  Never good.  Apparently Lizzy decided to make a face and stick her tongue out at a classmate's parents.  Her teacher asked her to apologize to which she said a little too quickly, "No."  They waited for forty minutes and after that they called me asking what to do.  I told them I'd come and get her as she's my child and I can tell you right now forty minutes is not near long enough for her to even begin considering apologizing.   Unless they had six hours and were dangling her favorite desert, all of her Barbie DVD's and, at minimum, 50 of her lambs and ponies over a garbage can full of puke, she was no where near close to saying I'm sorry. 



One of the many lambs in our house.


So I went and got her.  As we're going to the parking lot she mumbles, "Mom, Stacy's a harlot."   And a few things happened. 

• I broke out into a cold sweat. 
• In slow motion I turned around to see that her teacher had indeed registered what was said.  Apparently she does not listen to her I-pod on the high setting.  Fucking-fan-tabulous.  
• And the last thing that happened was I had an out of body vision of me slowly disemboweling my sister with the skill of a finely honed surgeon.  I am going to kill her.  I don't care if they use this blog as evidence to incriminate me.  I will kill her. 

I call her, left a message. 

Now I know these parents, they're lovely.  I know them well enough to know what happened was pretty harmless.  I gave her a call and left a message that Lizzy and I would be over in a bit to apologize.

I had the brief thought, what, is no one home right now??

Anyway, fast forward to later in the day.  I'm on the toilet and the phone rings.  Like an idiot I answer it, thinking it's my sister.  I still want to gut her like a great big fish so I pick up.  It's not her.  Fuck.  It's the parent.  Fuuuck.  Well isn't that just great, I've put myself in the middle of a bad situation.  Now I'm sitting on the toilet, wondering what to do with the tampon and blah, blah, blah, she won't shut up.  I really want to hang up but she just won't shut up long enough for me to tell her, now's really not a good time for me.  So I did what anyone else would do, I finished up.   When I was done I closed the lid and very quietly extricated myself to the bedroom.  I didn't want to turn on the water and blow my cover so I Windexed my hands.  That counts as hand washing, right?  Right?!?

I think nothing of the tampon in the toilet.  I'll flush it later. 

Fast forward to a little later in the day.  I'm messing with the kids, trying to make dinner and I hear the audio guy asking to use the loo.  The house is still under construction so I don't normally have an audio guy standing around waiting to flip channels for me or anything like that.  I wish, but no.  I scream back something to the effect of, "Yeah, sure, whatever....quit kicking your sister. You are in her bubble and when you are in her bubble she very well may kick you."  And then a few things clicked at once. 

• No, he was not downstairs. 
• He was, in fact, upstairs. 
• In my bedroom.
• And no, I did not get a chance to flush that tampon down the loo. 

And that my friends is a little something about me, about us and how we started our Spring Break.  I don't think the audio guy will ever be the same, he was pretty young yet.

Oh yeah, I've still not figured out what exactly my sister told Lizzy a harlot was.  For that I will have to wait till after Spring Break when she goes in to school explaining it to her teacher, not me.