Poop Soup

Okay, the title sounds a bit raunchy, I know...but, "I didn't start it!" You see, I did as promised and went to the Lake and played with my younger family members. Now, let me prep you by saying that I'm the aunt that gets reprimanded by getting the kids all riled up. This is SOOO unfair. Do you know what I do? Nothing. I just try to get to their level to play with them because what fun is it for them to play with someone that they can't even relate to? I'm not their Mom! No one asked me for permission to get pregnant and call me aunt, did they? That would be a big fat NO. No, an even fatter NO. More like a NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Because if they had asked me, guess what I would have said? Ohhhh, you're pretty smart! But I am getting off the point, which is that I like to play with kids at their own level. (Note: Comment was removed here about the similarity of the last statement and my last relationship. Why? Because although sarcasm can be funny, it would be wrong.)

So, I get myself to the Lake where I am told that there is little seaweed this year and that the water is warm, so why don't I go in for a swim. I test the water with one toe - okay, it's pretty warm (suspiciously warm) - then I look around for seaweed - okay, not too much. I sniff a bit to make sure things don't smell too fishy - it's not bad. Okay, they win. I go in.

My niece and nephew are in the paddle boat which is tied to the dock. Apparently, they are waiting for their mother to return from the cottage and take them for a ride. So, I swim up next to them to keep them company and bond for a bit while they wait. While I am there, being all aunt-like and stuff, we start to play. I get seaweed dumped on my head and water splashed in my face, and so they get seaweed dumped in their mouths and...well, never mind, I don't want to incriminate myself any further. Then, at some point I say, "You'd better watch out!" to which my preschool aged niece follows up with, "You'd better not cry," and then we start to sing the rest of, "Santa Clause is Coming to Town". The only twist is that instead of singing, "Santa Clause is coming to town," at the end, she sings, "Aunt Shell is going up Santa's Butt". This puts her and her brother into hysterics, naturally. I realize instantly that this would make for a completely inappropriate game. So, wasting no time, I aid and abet them in finding things can go up our butt's or butt's we can go up into all to the tune of a sweet Christmas carol. Soon enough, this game takes an even sicker turn as my niece and nephew manage to incorporate all bodily functions into the "song". It gets so out of hand that after just five minutes, Sadie has an ending that lasts for three minutes whereby she states such spiritually moving concepts as, 'God's pooh, the Angels boogers, Santa's diarrhea, Rudolph's pee, and my entire extended family's puke are all going to be put into a bowl' and I am going to have to eat it. Because she is so taken with herself and her little creation, she can't hear the Jaws tune that both her brother and I can hear as her mother approaches from behind. We don't bother to tell her, either. We just start pretending to whistle ('cuz neither one of us can actually whistle) and look around as if we have no idea WHAT she is going on about. In fact, I try very hard to look shocked and put on the, "I just don't know where she is getting this from," look on my face.

Less than impressed by her daughter's disgusting deluge of filth, her mother gets to the helm of the paddle boat and starts paddling backwards into the open seas. You can tell by my sister's face and posture that somebody is going to get a little talking to. At this point, before she has been properly castigated, Sadie pipes up and yells to me (and all on shore), "One time I ate an olive out of my poop!". This causes my sister to begin furiously paddling to turn the boat around, but she isn't fast enough to stop my nephew from getting his two cents in with, "Oh yeah, well, one time I threw up and there was broccoli, and corn, and peas and a pickle. So, I ate the pickle." While my sister ups her efforts in what looks like an attempt to become bionic, the rest of us are left feeling quite nostalgic. The locals are looking back on their childhoods and recalling what items they too ate out of their pooh and puke. And me? I am just happy that they're going to get in trouble. :)

(Note: The original final comment about how I was left reminded of my last boyfriend was deleted. Why? I ALREADY TOLD YOU! Because although it might have been witty to end it that way, it would have been wrong. Got it? Please try to remember this for future blog readings, okay? Thanks. No, really. Thanks.)

Today is Sunday, so I shall rest for the rest of the day. Shall the rest of you rest today? Whatever you do, do it with love and compassion in your heart, and don't eat too many beans...pleeease!?

You know, I am really glad you're supposed to seize the day and not your neighbor.

Sincerely,

Ima C. Weed