Obvious Treasures: Stinky Butts

Posted on January 25, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

Piper begins ballet class this week and as cute as wearing the one ballet shoe is, she really needed a mate. After a successful shopping trip (and let me be clear that I define “success” as we actually bought the necessary shoes, Piper didn’t shout anything too inappropriate, and she only broke one thing) we were trudging back to our car, struggling not to pick up every piece of trash along the way, when a homeless man approached. Now, nobody loves the homeless like Piper. I’m generalizing, of course, but she appreciates their often mismatched clothes and the shopping carts of obvious treasures. They, too, share Piper’s thriftiness and adoration for found objects. I was attempting to steer Piper toward the car (think herding cats in a parking lot) when the homeless guy begins shouting “Stinky Butts! Stinky Butts! Stinky Butts!” I don’t know if he was searching for discarded cigarettes or not, but Piper appreciates all things potty humor so this sends her into a fit of giggles, which, in turn, cracks me up, too. We’re dry heave laughing in the middle of the parking lot, appreciating the homeless guy’s random proclamation when Piper shouts back, “My dad says that, too!” The homeless guy turns to Piper and gives her a thumbs up.

Is Obama on the Naughty List?

Posted on January 23, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

When you live in DC, you just have to see the White House. Especially when it’s all gussied up for the holidays. We waited months for our background checks to clear and to be assigned a date in December. It was a magical morning. There was a choir singing Christmas carols as we toured the decorated rooms and peered over the velvet ropes into history.

Except that Piper almost got us kicked out. She couldn’t resist all the holiday versions of the First Family’s dog, Bo. She kept leaning over the barriers trying to do this (note her arm caught in action):

As we came around the corner to the last room, Piper broke loose and scrambled under a Christmas tree for a closer inspection. I dragged her out by her silver tights and black patent leather shoes, but she’d already discovered that there was nothing under the Obama’s tree. In a voice much too loud for the occasion, she asked, “How come the President doesn’t have any presents under his tree? Poor guy!”

Toes in the Water

Posted on January 17, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

In our house potty words are not necessarily curse words, but sometimes the worlds do collide. Potty words refer to parts of our body and their functions that need to be discussed for obvious reasons in the bathroom but not at the dinner table. This is an important distinction for Piper. She loves potty words and receives loads of inappropriate positive reinforcement in the form of laughs and giggles from her parental units when she uses them. We know we should grow up one of these days. We’re working on it. Until then we’re just trying to teach Piper how to compartmentalize her language. This distinction works well until she begins singing lyrics that contain potty words. Her current favorite is Zac Brown Band’s “Toes” as in got my toes in the water, ass in the sand.

Piper’s dad, who is famous for his own use of potty words, suggested the alternative toes in the water, toes in the sand. It seems a reasonable compromise and may save us yet another disparaging phone call from her preschool. It’s a ridiculous idea to Piper, though, because it violates the artistic integrity of a great song. So she has solved the potty word problem her own way. It requires quick action. Piper stands in the hallway and sings got my toes in the water. Then she sprints into the bathroom and belts out ass in the sand.

Using potty words has now become her main form of exercise.

Guest Blogger: Big Sister, Age 9

Posted on January 15, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

My little sister, Piper, loves to do puzzles. She inherited a lot of them from me. Normally, she does puzzles in a nice fashion, mostly listens (as much as a Piper listens anyway), cooperates, and basically has fun. But not when friends show up. One of her new friends from preschool came over for a playdate, and I suggested they put together a puzzle. Sounds like a good idea, right? Not if Piper’s involved. At the beginning, she refused to do the puzzle and just sat in the box lid. She said, “Well, it’s cozy in there!” Here she is in the cozy spot:

So her friend and I started working on the puzzle. In no time at all, we were almost done. But the little box-sitter decided it was only fair the she gets to put in the last piece. I handed the piece to her friend and told her it was not fair because she didn’t help. Piper gave me a full-on stink eye. Her solution? Piper put the last piece on her head and said, “Look! Now I’m a part of the puzzle.”

-Isabelle, aka “Sissy”

Hold On. We’re Going Gaga.

Posted on January 12, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

It may be a mixed blessing that Piper misunderstands Lady Gaga lyrics, especially since she likes to belt them out on the playground and teach her peers Gaga like dance moves. First, a disclaimer. I do not endorse nor recommend that young impressionable children listen to inappropriate music intended for adults’ ears. But if you’ve heard a Lady Gaga song and didn’t bust a move, more power to you. Piper writes her own lyrics anyway, so I haven’t yet had to explain that love can be fun and healthy even if it’s not rough and that you don’t have to get your guy high just to show him what you got. I do lecture at length about the Gaga’s grammar errors, but that’s a post for another day. So, in case you were wondering, here is what the Gaga is really saying. Feel free to sing along.

“Pokerface” Curry my, curry my (Who doesn’t love a little curry, right?). Pucker face. (Cue fish lips). Ma ma ma ma pucker face. My pucker face. Wait..is it Piper face, mom? Is that what the Gaga is singing? (Piper calls her “the” Gaga out of respect).

“Bad Romance” Ra ah ra ah ah ah. Bad RoNancy. (That Nancy has terrible luck in love).

“Monster” That boy is a monster. Stop! Can’t touch this! (MC Hammer often interrupts and totally should if you’re dating a monster).

“Telephone” Stop calling. Stop calling. I don’t want to walk anymore. I’m kind of dancing. Kind of dancing. (Here’s a video of what Piper means by “kind of dancing.” You may want to put down your drink):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVRJGDaqYD4

Those voices you hear in the background are my parents, who took Piper out to dinner that night, cheering her antics on.

Words You Didn’t Know You Needed

Posted on January 9, 2012 by melissa.scholes.young

When Piper doesn’t know a word she does what most of us academics do; she makes it up. Then she pretends to consult an authority, like leftover marker scribblings on her palm, and confirms that her fake definition is correct. Soon, we’ve all adopted the word into our own vernacular, and we can’t remember if it’s a piperism or if we’re just blazing new vocabulary trails. Here are a few words you didn’t know you needed and their proper usage, according to Piper:

Mulgated. This seems to be an adjective and mostly the negative kind. As “This magic wand is so mulgated. The broccoli didn’t change into chocolate at all.”

Bedrazzled. I assumed incorrectly that when Piper declared me bedrazzled at breakfast it was a compliment somewhere near the awesome Midwestern talent of bedazzling. Granted I didn’t have my makeup on, but I didn’t think I looked that haggard. Turns out this one is an attempt at the proper use of “bedraggled” and I didn’t look so pretty after all.

Peanut. You may think you already know this one but you’re probably wrong. It’s sort of a combo word, a two-for-one special. Piper says, “Boys stand up when they use the bathroom because of their peanuts.” We’re not sure to which male body part she’s referring and we really don’t want to know.

Tomcats. According to Piper these require a warning. As in “Augie, don’t be scared if you see my mom poking her fingers into her eyeballs. She’s just putting in her tomcats so she can see.” Meow.

Serleal. If Piper catches us laughing at her, she demands we stop with a whiney “I’m being serleal!” We can’t tell if she’s ordering cereal for breakfast or wanting us to take her antics seriously. Either way we can’t stop cracking up. Hope you can’t either.