The Princess of Pain

My daughter, Charlotte, is nine years old and, therefore, very impressionable. This worries me. Her step-father, my husband, is quite possibly the crudest person alive. He is very loving but, nevertheless, a bad influence.

The first time this became evident was when she was about five years old. We were playing Hangman with her and it was her turn to guess the word. The word Michael had in mind was “sweetheart”. She was having a hard time with it, so he tried to help by giving her a hint. He said, “It’s what I call your mother.” Charlotte thought for a second and then proudly asked, “How do you spell ‘bitch’?”

Since that glorious day, he has taught my little princess that she should never “waste” a fart. He means that she should point her butt at me before she lets one rip. Charming, huh? She did this to her grandmother yesterday. Michael says I should have scolded her for this. Apparently, it’s only acceptable behavior if she does it to me. Sigh.

She excused herself from the room the other day by saying, “I need to take a dump.” Hmm. Where could she have heard this? Could it have something to do with the fact that my husband loves to announce his every bodily function?

They also love to wrestle. I usually allow this behavior until I hear Charlotte scream something like, “I can’t feel my legs!” I have a nine year old child and a thirty-four year old child. I only gave birth to the younger one.

I must admit that my husband doesn’t always behave like he’s Charlotte’s demented older brother. He pulled her tooth for her tonight. He takes her rollerskating. She actually listens to him. I’m a little jealous of that part of their relationship.

I’m definitely not jealous of him when our wrestling champion “The Princess of Pain” is punching him in his stomach. I think I’d prefer if she’d just continue to fart on me.

“Look over there! Isn’t that Cinderella lifting her skirt to set a fart on fire?”

Comments 1

  • Who knew my Daugther-In-Law could write with such humor or even write for that matter. I knew she could cook and took care of my son, a very great task I may add. I was in stitches with this Fart story. I am ashamed, where did my son get this behavior? I have been know to do my share, OK, OK, more than my share but never as described. Sorry about “The Bunny” but I never liked him either. Tweety was my kind of cartoon, so Micheal gets that honest. I am waiting for the next story to be written and the first book.
    The Proud Mother in Law

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