Today we gathered at my older sister's house to do her (and her hubby's) bidding-- and let me tell you, there was quite a lot of bidding going on. I was put to work (along with my younger sister and her husband) applying a sealant to the brand spankin' new playground in their backyard. Since this project meant that the kids were not allowed on the playground, they naturally had to entertain themselves elsewhere. Well, The Bopper isn't always adept at entertaining herself. You see, sometimes The Bopper needs help. And a lot of attention. And supervision. And...well, she's three, what else can I say?
Anyway, as T and I were dutifully painting the sealant on, we kept hearing a small voice calling to us-- "Auntie, look!" over and over. Unable to ignore the wee tot (moms can ignore, aunts aren't as equipped for this...) I craned my neck to catch a peak at what the little darling was up to. Well, the little darling was naked from the waist down and vigorously pointing to a certain part of her anatomy that most women prefer not to draw attention to unless, say...they're birthing a baby or something. "Auntie, look!" she called again, pointing more fervently. "Yes, honey, that's wonderful!" I called back. She proceeded to get T's attention in the same manner, and T more or less responded in the same way I had. Apparently, The Bopper was so pleased with our reactions that she felt perhaps we would enjoy taking in another viewing. So, she called to us again. "Auntie, look!" Unable to stop myself, (just like when passing a train-wreck) I peered around the corner of the playhouse again. I was rewarded with more flaming vajayjay pride. "I see it, honey! That's great!" I yelled. Then it was T's turn again, and she made some comment about the wonderful feministic enlightenment our little 3-year old niece was demonstrating.
We figured that after round two she would get bored and move on. After all, how many times did she think we needed to see it? And yet...she displayed a remarkable ability to focus herself fully on the task at hand; introducing and reintroducing us to her privates. Well, private parts don't hold nearly the same mysterious allure to me that they do to a toddler (or to your average man, for that matter). And to be honest, I wasn't all that interested in stopping my work every 30 seconds or so in order to take in the viewing-- as exceptional as it was. I mean, twice was already more than I needed, you know? But The Bopper was not aware of this fact, and she attempted to command our waning attention with greater and greater urgency. T, with more prudence than I could muster up, suggested finally that we (gasp) ignore the tyke. I couldn't see a more reasonable solution and so we tried it. And you know what? It worked! Go figure....
And by the way, in case any of you are curious, we were able to finish sealing the entire playground (although it took three of us about 4 hours to do it) before day's end. And eventually The Bopper's mom put a lid on the pee-pee pride by outfitting the child in underpants. And as much as I'm all about girl power, really, it was for the best....
Poor Isaac didn't know what to do with himself!
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