My family is famous amongst my friends that I met through my brother. I can't even count the number of times I've heard, "Those Duffins!" after another story recounted by one of them. They will recall tales of my Dad calling to my brother (in a perfect impersonation) in the basement and my brother flipping out; my sister coming after the boys with a saw; my mom saying something competely hsyterical and inappropriate; and me vomiting in the sink when Sean pulled a spaghetti noodle out of his nose.
I love my family. I really do. I have some strains with my father, but most of that is religion-based. Other than that, I wouldn't trade any of them for the world. Dinner usually involved one of us girls talking about poo or how heavy we were bleeding that day, followed by my brother slamming down his utensils and yelling, "I can't EAT with this conversation!" and storming away. My dad would lecture my sister, mom and me about our choice of topic and we'd just laugh and keep up. We're quite the reverse of the stereotype of men and women. The women in my family have a really messed up, sick sense of humor. My dad can be pretty prudish, but has lightened up over the years. My brother is awesome and fun, but would NEVER utter a word about a bowel movement or sex. I've never even heard my brother fart in his near 30 years of life! The women in my family are a bit twisted, but people love hanging out with us.
When we found out my sister was having a girl during her pregnancy, we'd all joke around about watching out because she was going to be like us. When I moved out here, Kylee was two and I felt like I finally had the opportunity to truly get to know her. However, I was warned not to influence her with poo talk or other inappropriate things. I wanted to respect that, but also knew that between my mom and my sister, it wasn't going to happen no matter how hard any of us tried.
It started simply with the book "Everybody Poops." One of my favorites. My brother saw a picture of her reading this and emailed me exclaiming, "YOU bought that for her, didn't you?" I explained they were trying to potty train her, so it was valid.
I've been very careful with not encouraging her about certain things, as to respect my sister's respect that was given from her husband, but sometimes things slip out. Kylee had to go pee a few months ago, so I took her to the potty while Heidi changed in the closet next to the bathroom. She peed, then stood up and grabbed one of the wet wipe toilet paper pieces and stuck it on her head.
"Kylee, don't put that on your head. You use it to wipe your cooter!" I explained.
"HEATHER!" shouted my sister. "Do NOT call it that!"
"What am I supposed to call it then? Her vagina?"
Heidi gasped, "NO! Call it something else. Call it her Lulu."
I started to laugh. "Lulu is better than cooter? I'm more offended by Lulu."
Heidi shook her head and left it at that.
I laugh now when I think of this incident because I realize that I can never really influence Kylee THAT much because my sister and Mom are doing it all themselves. Kylee asked my mom the other night if she had diarrhea? I've never said "diarrhea" in front of her. And I knew she got this from my sister or Mom who always seem to be running from some room shouting, "Oh Lord! I got diarrhea!" Or "Damnit ____! You gave me diarrhea!"
I was at Heidi's last night doing laundry while her and Fletcher met with an alarm systerm guy. I had to pee and went to the bathroom and shut the door. A moment later, Kylee pounded on the door. "Auntie Hethaaaaaaaa! Let me in!" I leaned forward and opened the door. She marched right in, closed the door and stood on her potty.
"Whatca doin' Auntie Hetha? Are you going poo-poo?"
"Nope. Just pee."
"Oh. Otay."
I finished my business, pulled up my pants and went to flush. Kylee was staring in the toilet. "You DID poo-poo!"
I looked in the toilet, and there dried to the side of the bowl was a piece of splatter rock. I started laughing and explained that was not my poo-poo, but that it as left over from somebody else. Kylee stuck her head in the bowl a bit and squinted.
"Yeah, that definitely looks like my Mommy's poo-poo!" And she walked out with me roaring behind her.
The girl is a Duffin, lord help her.
