Daughter: They're just toilet squirts Daddy!
My daughter has a delightful trick she likes to exhibit at bath time. Basically she takes a small jug of water and drinks some of it into her mouth. Then she pours the rest into her ear and pretends that it magically squirts right out of her mouth. Being a kid she tries to spike the football a little too much and likes to forcefully spit the water out. So much so that you can actually tell what is bath water and what is spittle. I've told her that it's not exactly pleasant to gulp bath water - or Bum Soup as I've taken to calling it to make a mental connection in her head - but she's having none of it. And it is my fault. I showed her the I-can-pour-water-through-my-brain trick.
Except she keeps trying to slightly up the ante. Now her trick involves squirting the brain water backwards. As in she now is trying to convince me that she's drinking the water and rocketing it out of her ears. And the way you can tell that is because it is propelled so violently away from the side of her head that you can only believe that is what is happening. And again - being a kid - she thinks that by moving her mouth to the side hurriedly makes the entire action practically invisible. Yes - it's so fast it's like sleight of hand. But it's not fast. It's like watching Boris Johnson play football. So for much of last nights bath I would softly remind her that yes it's funny, but please stop spitting bath water all over the place. But she's very enthusiastic about it and wanted to show me that she could, "brain-squirt" the bubbles off the tiled-wall in the bath. I then told her not to squirt the wall anymore.
Which proved I'd learned nothing because that merely removed one tiny geographical location from her repertoire that she could aim at. So she turned and fountained her brain-squirt the opposite way and got a gob full of water all over the side of the toilet. On the one hand I was genuinely impressed that she could shoot it that far. But mostly I was irritated in that thirty-something-parent way when you now own property and little things like puddled-water on the bathroom floor trigger a weird doom-reflex deep inside you. Sensing my discomfort my daughter attempted to calm me by playfully pointing out that, "they're just toilet-squirts Daddy!" It took almost every fiber of my being at that point not to go on my tri-annual rant about how illogical it is to have a room set aside in a house explicitly for cleaning one's body - and yet it to also be the only room you shit in. I realize that is not necessarily true for some people - particularly some of my readership that Google feels the need to direct here via tenuously linked Google searches for Japanese vibrators and farmer porn. But nevertheless it still seems completely odd to me that - when lying at one end of the bath - we are perfectly comfortable to be a foot and a half away at eye level from the toilet seat. The strength of this comfort is obviously tested when I'm having a bath and my wife sees fit to "release a granola-canoe" so close to me that she can without effort reach over and ruffle my hair if she was so inclined.
Moving on though - today is library day. At least it should be if I can get everything done in due time. Driving up and back to the in-laws (with a short, polite visit thrown in) washes away almost the entire free part of the day. It gives me about thirty minutes after cleaning, doing laundry and whatnot of down-time before I have to go pick up my daughter from school. Tonight is also her dance class, so I don't want to just run them around in a car after 3pm except for dinner. But I do want to go back to the library and exchange the stuff we have. We actually watched the DVDs we borrowed this time. I'll often borrow something aimed at kids and try to enthuse about it - but my daughter has weirdly strong opinions about almost some mainstream movies based upon very limited exposure to what they are. For example she has absolutely zero interest in any classic Disney movie. Which I actually agree with. Quite what the appeal of Bambi or stuff of that ilk is I'll never know. But I brought home Toy Story last week thinking she'd get a kick out of that. But due to spending a weekend at the in-laws some time back at the same time as her cousin she hates it. When pressed to explain she told me that an enormous amount of whining and rudeness went on if it wasn't put on as a sort of Life-Screensaver/background music effect at all times for an entire two day period. Ergo she hates Toy Story to such degree that the very mention of it fills her with energy. But she did watch the Ice Age one I got out. And my wife even watched Crazy Stupid Love - which I'd picked out unaware that the ending of this generic romance-comedy involved a breezy child pornography scene wherein a 17 year old girl gives naked photos of herself to a 13 year old boy to use "as inspiration".
Anyhoo the books I got out this week were a let down. For example one book has that blunt, reading style wherein it seems like a caveman talking in it even though it claims to be for a reading age appropriate for 5+. As in each page has a few sentences that go, "Mouse likes paint. Mouse likes chalk. Mouse draws pictures." I get the principle behind it - but as bedtime story material goes that's pretty poor. Add one of the other books that I got out tries to make a light, playful story out of something that pictorially is the sort of tell-tale things people remember a serial-killer doing when they were a kid. In this case it's killing a chicken, cutting it up and taking it's decapitated head and feet to school, PAINTING THE TOENAILS WITH NAIL-POLISH and then chasing girls wearing the dismembered feet as hands. Please someone tell me how that is a nice, easy kids story. Not getting the full effect of boy acquiring, cleaning, decorating and then using dismembered chicken feet in a kids' book?
See - that's mental. It completely changes how I feel when people tell me I should write a book. Instead of hearing, "no really - I think you have genuine talent..." I now hear, "you seem like the sort of person who would interfere with livestock - kids love that."