TG brought her daughter, Miss America, downstairs to my bathroom where I was getting ready for work. "Tell your Nana what you found," she said, teetering between empathy and impatience.
In her pleated jeans skorts (and topless), four-year-old Miss America looked up at me with sad, teary brown eyes and a pouty lower lip I could have set my coffee cup on.
"What's the matter, sweetie? You okay?"
Miss America's chin quivered and she clammed up, wiping at her eyes.
"She found lint in her butt," my daughter explained with that exasperated smirk that's half chuckle and half I-can't-believe-I'm-a-grown-woman-talking-about-lint-in-the-butt. You know the one.
"Lint?" I asked.
TG nodded. "She's freaking out."
"But how did she --" My lightning quick faculties assessed the situation: Miss America had found lint in her butt. Rather, she had found lint in the crevasse of her butt. How she managed to find it was not my concern. The important thing is that she was not happy to discover this little treasure and had promptly fallen apart.
"I hate it when that happens," I said. "It's okay. Really, it's just lint. I get lint in my bellybutton sometimes. There's lint on everything."
I could see my little cherub wanted to believe that the offending lint had not emanated from her behind, but then her eyes grew wide, which I took to mean: If there's lint on everything, maybe there's reason to panic on the scale of a planetary invasion.
"Come here," I said. "Let me show you." I took her hand as we wound our way through the house to the laundry room. At the dryer, I pulled the lint catch out of its deep hole. "See?" I stroked the screen with my fingertips allowing the thick, flaccid cushion of speckled fuzz to fold over itself and into the trash can. "Lint is in all fabrics. All the clothes you wear have lint in them. It's everywhere, like germs, but you normally don't see it."
I suspected the wheels of her imagination turned that big swath of dryer fuzz over her crevasse and left an unwelcome hanger-on.
"This like, almost NEVER happens," I assured her, resigned to my matriarchal ineptitude. "It was a fluke that you even found it!"
Miss America nodded and whimpered, "Will you make sure it's off?"
"Um . . . sure?" I led her back into my bathroom where TG was in my adjoining closet jacking my wardrobe. I pulled a rag from the linen closet, ran it under the faucet, and squeezed. "Drop 'em," I said.
Miss America slid down her skorts and undies, and I zipped the rag between her cheeks, then held it out for inspection. "See anything?"
Fingers in her mouth, she mumbled no.
"That's because there's nothing there!"
TG peeked out the closet and rolled her eyes. I tossed the rag into the hamper and dusted off my hands. "I think my work here is finished."
Then I joined TG in my closet. We held up blouses and dress pants, assessing them for wearability based on how skinny we didn't feel. We hopped around without modesty in our panties and bras, trying each outfit on (and off). Miss America watched from the edge of the bathtub. Her small voice stopped us, each with one leg in a pair of pants we had exchanged.
"That's disgusting," she said. The village idiots looked into the big brown eyes of the cherub with the scrunched-up face. "That's disgusting," she repeated.
This, from the child with lint in the butt.
We’re not going anywhere.
1 day ago
28 comments:
Lint in ones butt is a cause for concern, alright, but what I really want to know is....what the hell was she looking for when she found it? LOL
The old lint in the butt problem. Not that I would know, or anything.
Here's a fresh one: Lies!!! lol
Me in bra and panties? More disgusting than lint in the butt. My kids haven't complained of lint. Maybe cuz there's worse critters they've found down there?
I'm thinking you could give that lint to Socks without Mates and she could get Miss America some college fund money from Ebay.
well, she's peeking everywhere, isn't she?!
Thank you so much for your visit to my blog. I found this quite interesting and unique. I wonder if my little granddaughter will have these little "concerns" as well. :-)
You know what my question is, right? What was she doing rooting around in her butt crack? LOL
Justine :o )
Seems that lint is one of the most harmless things that could be found attached to a four year old. I'll spare you some of the goodies Silas has discovered.
Awww, bless her! Has she discovered earwax yet? You better be prepared for that when it happens. My daughter was convinced Duncan the teddy bear was pooing in her ear while she slept. Took me a while to convince her otherwise.
It pays to be thorough when you're Miss America...that's for sure. LOL! Great story!
You are SUCH a good Nana!!! Everything you said and did was so right for a curious and scared four year old.
Reminds me of an incident with my grandson which just may become a post. Thanks for the inspiration!
You have patience, my dear.
I can relate to Miss America, I hate lint between my toes ... now I'm off to inspect my butt crack!
(cute post)
Come to my blog, I have something for you.
Poor kid. The oddest things freak them out.
My you are so patient! I'm not sure what I would have said about the lint in the butt!
OMG! ROFLMAO!!!! TOO funny!
I KNOW you LOVED seeing the hook in the eye.
You are VERY welcome!!
Hallie
My four year old daughter calls everything disgusting too, what's up with that?
OMG that is way too funny. You are such a great grandma to just deal with her so honestly and matter of factly!
Adorable!
Their naked versus our naked is so different. According to them.
I'm asking the questions too: What was she doing rooting around in her butt? But then of course, I think of myself and what I'm doing rooting around back there. Generally, it's an itch or a panty bunch, so there's got to be some good reasons. Right? RIGHT?
I have boys. If one of my boys had found lint in his butt he would have started yelling, "Mom, COOOOOOL... I found LINT IN MY BUTT!!!!" And then he'd relate an entire plan that involved showing all his friends his butt lint or maybe putting it in a baggie and saving it for show and tell. Or making me blog about it.
Boys. Bah!
This child is going to grow up to be something great and wonderful.
Great and wonderful Girls. Yes. We rock it.
I was envisioning the closet scene whilst reading along...and I concur with Miss America!
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