Willow's new obsession is with Fancy Nancy, though I'm not sure it will extend to a name change. And so, this post is brought to you by me and my fanciness. And lack thereof.
Here are the ways in which I am Fancy! Kayla over at The Rural Knitter interviewed me in all of my awesome designerness, and my, doesn't that feel professional and impressive and doesn't my head feel as though it is about to swell! Voila! I am a Designer Extraordinaire!
Here are the ways in which I am the opposite of Fancy! They are far more numerous!
Willow went up a diaper size recently because she pees SO MUCH that a diaper can be empty and then leaking in about a minute. She is the opposite of a camel. This new diaper did not improve matters--it only seems to allow her to pee more. Our friend Buster came to the sprinkler park with us for one last warm weather hurrah before the water is turned off and Fall is officially declared. I knew we were going to a sprinkler park, and yet I did not bring spare clothes or a towel. Not Fancy. But I figured, what the hell, so I stripped her down to her diaper and said roam free like the child of nature that you are! She ran to the sprinkler, and her diaper was so full of pee that it fell off and around her ankles. Not Fancy. Funny, especially if you are Willow or Buster, but Not Fancy.
You would think that would be enough, right? You would think that forgetting a swimsuit, swim diaper, towel, and having the diaper fall off before even venturing into the sprinkler would be evidence enough of my ineptitude, and that the universe would cut me a break after that, right? You would be wrong.
Buster and Willow played and got soaked and had a blast and never stood still and pleased their mothers greatly with this as it indicated strongly that a good, long nap would be in our futures.* And so Willow's diaper was once again enormous, but I figured that was mostly sprinkler water, and so when we were ready to move on, I took it off her without so much of a glance or a sniff.
The stickiest, goopiest poop plopped out. "Whoa!" I yelled (thereby drawing the attention of the entire sprinkler park to the situation) and set about trying to contain things. Willow and Buster, once again, thought that nothing in the world could possibly be funnier, and while Willow tried really hard to be helpful--sticking her butt up in the air for wiping, plie-ing, and whatever other contortions I asked her to attempt--she was laughing too hard to stay on her feet, and kept trying to reach down and grab at things which should not be grabbed at that precise moment.
Yep. I'm just going to go read an interview of myself now and try to feel a bit fancier again.
*Though Buster misled! He's a low-down deceiving deceiver!
Here are the ways in which I am Fancy! Kayla over at The Rural Knitter interviewed me in all of my awesome designerness, and my, doesn't that feel professional and impressive and doesn't my head feel as though it is about to swell! Voila! I am a Designer Extraordinaire!
Here are the ways in which I am the opposite of Fancy! They are far more numerous!
Willow went up a diaper size recently because she pees SO MUCH that a diaper can be empty and then leaking in about a minute. She is the opposite of a camel. This new diaper did not improve matters--it only seems to allow her to pee more. Our friend Buster came to the sprinkler park with us for one last warm weather hurrah before the water is turned off and Fall is officially declared. I knew we were going to a sprinkler park, and yet I did not bring spare clothes or a towel. Not Fancy. But I figured, what the hell, so I stripped her down to her diaper and said roam free like the child of nature that you are! She ran to the sprinkler, and her diaper was so full of pee that it fell off and around her ankles. Not Fancy. Funny, especially if you are Willow or Buster, but Not Fancy.
You would think that would be enough, right? You would think that forgetting a swimsuit, swim diaper, towel, and having the diaper fall off before even venturing into the sprinkler would be evidence enough of my ineptitude, and that the universe would cut me a break after that, right? You would be wrong.
Buster and Willow played and got soaked and had a blast and never stood still and pleased their mothers greatly with this as it indicated strongly that a good, long nap would be in our futures.* And so Willow's diaper was once again enormous, but I figured that was mostly sprinkler water, and so when we were ready to move on, I took it off her without so much of a glance or a sniff.
The stickiest, goopiest poop plopped out. "Whoa!" I yelled (thereby drawing the attention of the entire sprinkler park to the situation) and set about trying to contain things. Willow and Buster, once again, thought that nothing in the world could possibly be funnier, and while Willow tried really hard to be helpful--sticking her butt up in the air for wiping, plie-ing, and whatever other contortions I asked her to attempt--she was laughing too hard to stay on her feet, and kept trying to reach down and grab at things which should not be grabbed at that precise moment.
Yep. I'm just going to go read an interview of myself now and try to feel a bit fancier again.
*Though Buster misled! He's a low-down deceiving deceiver!
1 comment:
Great interview! I look forward to your book coming out in the U.S. And I've had a similar poop incident (although it was in underwear and in our own home -- and he stepped in it!). I can commiserate. I love reading what you and Willow are up to.
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