Who wants a butt-rocket?

I can't wait for February to end.  There I said it.  I don't care if our TOR:CON index shoots up to like a five just because we live in Kansas.  I'll take that risk.  There's something about the promise of warmer weather with the coming of March.


















 

In case anyone's keeping count, that sleeping baby down there is winning.  Six to zero.  It wouldn't be so bad if she would only take her Tylenol by mouth.  But ohhhh no, she doesn't like the taste.  I've tried every flavor, every brand and even the chewable tablets.  Even tried hiding it in her cheese.

All of it comes back at me.

She had the same poor review of Ibuprofen.  All makes, all brands.

That's why I get the joy of shoving a suppository up her ass every four to six hours.  She thinks even less highly of that and pukes, I swear, to spite me.  

Let me tell you Gracie, I like shoving my finger up your ass as much as you like it there kid.

On the upside, it's making discipline a hell of a lot easier in this house.  All I have to do is pull out a suppository, show it to her and say, "Do you want this?  Do you want a butt-rocket up your butt??  No, I didn't think so."

Lord, that child will do whatever I ask now.

Only with both hands holding her bottom pretty tightly.