Rashy Butts and Mac ‘n Cheese

Today, me, mommy and Leona the Rat Baby are sick.  We all have sniffles and coughs, but on days like this, mommy is the nicest!  She lets me watch movies and drink milk as much as I want to because she feels too shitty to argue with me.  Also, she doesn’t get off the couch and we get to snuggle a lot!  She tells me she loves me, and that I’m her favorite little man in the whole wide world, and don’t wipe your nose on my couch again, and I tell her she is my favorite big girl in the whole wide world, and she says she’s not that big, but whatever, and we snuggle some more.  You see, there are days when mommy is not so horrible.  Maybe I should lay off the old bag a bit.  It’s day two of her week of sobriety–she claims this is the reason she is sick, by the way–and I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised by her reasonably light demeanor.

Leona, on the other hand, is not doing so well.  I watched mommy change her diaper today, and that girl’s ‘gina is fuh-LAMING.  Bright red.  Rashy.  Swollen.  Look, I try not to look at The Rat’s ‘gina, because it’s weird, but today I couldn’t turn away.  It brought back awful memories.  Not too long ago, I too had a bumpy crevasse and red, rashy, swollen balls, and I cringe when recalling the things mom would do to try to make me feel better…like hot baths.  Oh good, almighty God, I would rather a wasp nest get shoved up my ass.  Or using the cheap, highly scented wipes for kids with asses made out of resilient textures like gravel or sandpaper (to this day, no one has ever shoved a nose close enough to my ass to catch a whiff of the powder fresh scent anyway, so what is the point?)  Might as well spritz the buttocks with some Chanel No. 5.  Oh, and we can’t forget blowing on my ass to try and…what?  Give me an erection?  I never understood that technique, and I’m not sure why my howls of utter pain didn’t send the message across that it wasn’t working.  So, my point is, I felt Leona’s pain, so for the whole day today, I’m not going to call her a hillbilly because of that one, extra-large top tooth that is screaming for a Deliverance reference.

I think that maybe I will end up a master-manipulator some day.  I have been mastering the art of the toddler barter, and I do a nice job of sucking mommy and daddy in sometimes.  Like during lunch today.  Mommy was making mac ‘n cheese, and I wanted to stick my finger in the cheese pouch.  She let me do it once.  It was delicious.  Salty, processed, orange utopia.  I wanted more.  She said no.  But I wasn’t going down like that.

Me:  Please, mommy.  I just want one more lick.

Mommy:  No.

Me:  Why not?  Just one more lick.

Mommy:  No.

Me:  Please, mommy.  Just gimme some and I’ll relax.

Mommy:  No.

Me:  Okay, mommy, gimme a deal.

Mommy:  The deal is, no more licks.  And I’m done talking to you because you keep asking the same question.

Me:  Okay, deal, but just one more lick, mommy.  Please?

Silence.

Okay, so maybe my bartering skills could use some improvement.  I never got that lick, plus the bitch put peas in the mac ‘n cheese.  Personal foul, mommy.  Not cool.

I have to run.  Everyone say a prayer for Rat Baby’s ‘gina.

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