Conversations with Clairey

Clairey to me:

"My pooped on the potty today! It was big and stinky! Whew!"

Oh, if we could all be so candid.

Clairey to me (we were lying in bed watching "The Easter Bunny's Coming to Town"):

Her little foot waves in my face:
C: "Smell my feet."
M: "Clairey, get your feet out of my face."
C: "Smell 'em mom, smell my good feet."
M: "No thanks."
C: "MOM! Smell my feet![sniff, sniff] They smell goooooood!" (singing that last part)
M: laughing too hard to say anything at all


Me, mom, and the chicks went to The Cheesecake Factory on Saturday. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the likes of TCF, get down on your knees and thank God that you don't. It's one of those establishments wherein you gain 10 pounds from walking in the door and sniffing. It's like hell without the heat (and lots of waiters). So anyways, Clairey was wearing "big-girl" panties and she had to go pee. I rushed her to the Ladies Room and, as the stalls were all empty, we occupied the handicapped stall (you need lots of room when you have a potty-training kid--mostly to avoid the inevitable pee-stream that sneaks out between the toilet and the toilet seat). We're in there, and Clairey's concentrating really hard on going pee ("Mine pee's stuck!"), and someone else comes in, and occupies the stall next to us. No big deal, right? hahahahahaha...whatever. The woman, in the middle of peeing, farts. Loudly. I said a quick prayer that Claire didn't hear it, although waiters in the middle of the restaurant were ducking for fear of nuclear attack.

"Haha! That lady made a poo-stinky! HA HA HA!!"

"claire...shhhhh!!!!"

"Dat was LOUD! Hahahaha!! POO-STINKY!!"

I just covered my mouth and tried hard not to make any noises. Let me tell ya--I wiped that kid quicker than a wink, washed hands at the speed of light, and got outta there. Jeesh.