I occasionally care too much what people think. But more often than not, I realllllly don’t give a shit.
And I apparently don’t have a middle setting. Odd, that.
I especially don’t give a shit what people think when it comes to playing with The ACN. I will do just about anything to get a laugh from that kid. Proof of this would be the numerous things I have worn on my head for her general amusement. Hand towels, mixing bowls, her shirts, Xmas bows, and (unused) pull-ups to name but a few.
One of the things that seems to tickle her the most is when I yell at various objects. Furniture. Walls. Stuffed animals for pinching bums. The telephone for ringing. Her wheel chair for trying to roll away on us.
Sometimes she decides that she just doesn’t want to eat lunch for me. For no other reason than to make me suffer a little. I ask her if she would eat lunch for anyone else she knows… individually, and they all get a big “No.” And a grin. So, I ask if she’d eat lunch for a stranger walking by. She says, “Yeah!”
And then I yell out the window things like, “Hey, lady with the ponytail! Come feed this little monster!”
The ACN HOWLS.
I, of course, yell it just loud enough that the person hears it and looks around, but not so loud that they can understand it.
But, by far, her favourite of my bellowings is when I yell at her…
Sometimes an ACN eats too much string cheese and, well, you know how it goes…
(Maybe this little story will balance out the ACN post from the other day.)
So, when poop doesn’t arrive in a timely manner, Uncle Pete yells at it.
“Hey, poop! Get out here, you little shit! Bum, if you are listening, send that poop out!! Poooooooooooooooop! Come on… be good poop. I’ll buy you ice cream, poop.”
Occasionally I do it in the accent of a snooty French maitre d’.
I… am not sure why.
While it may not always convince poop to come out, it rarely ever misses with giving the ACN some laughs.
And occasional giggle-farts.