Farts and Boogers

In our family of all girls, you would think that we would have class. We would be above the average 10 year old boy. We didn't have a male role model growing up, but we instinctively knew how to behave like grubby little boys. Our mother would try, we would have pretty little dresses and tights that would inevitably end up with mud, grass stains, or poop of some sort on them. Bikes and skateboards just didn't fair well with dresses in our family. If someone stayed clean all day, we must have been sick.

My sister Shell could hock up a loogie that would make a truck driver envious. Of course, she would share it with my other sister, Am, who would continually throw up at the sound, let alone sight of Shell's mucus. This would likely occur in the back of my mother's car. Minor Incident Could be why my mother carried a long handled wooden spoon in the car!

Shell would pick out boogers and swipe them across Am's teeth, again, causing up-chuck to fly. Shell would also torment Am with a good butt wipe across Am's lip. Shell liked to pee in cups and fling it out the 2nd floor window where it would leak down onto the porch. I won't tell you how I know this, since I'm WAYYYY to fragile to unblock that particular memory. See the beginning of our disgusting childhood? Oh, and let's not forget about the booger WALL! HUNDREDS of boogers peeled from noses all over the neighborhood I'm sure, every shape and size.

Am on the other hand, had her own brand of disgust. She and her little friend liked "FART" and anything to do with either the word or action. Trust me when I tell you that she has NOT outgrown this. Am and Carol would walk around with the word written on paper, carefully folded and tucked into their pants pockets. Whenever they needed a laugh, they would just pull it out and POOF... the hilarity began. They even made up a little play about the word fart that I can still remember to this day. But the action alone was cause for alarm. Again, Am has NOT outgrown this. If you ever have driven by a sewage treatment facility, you will have a fairly good idea of what funk Am could produce. However, it's much worse than that. One whiff of her foulness and you visualize maggots and buzzards. You cautiously look around for the dead animal that will need disposing of before you see Am standing there with the look of sick satisfaction on her face.

In her adulthood, Am has perfected a method of delivery of her colon death. It's called the "cup and sprinkle". When you see her cupping her butt like a four year old crapping their pants on accident, you know that the "sprinkle" or the bringing forth and finger waving of the stench is on it's way to your olfactories. Many have tried to imitate this, most have failed just because no one can quite compare to the GAWD-awfulness of the smell. Yes, I have lived thru it!

Enter the multitude of cuts, bruises, frogs carried in the mouth, dead animals examined and buried, ant hills chopped up or burned, boys beaten bloody, and other kids' parents wishing they had shotguns for when we entered their yards, you can see that we girls are as bad, if not worse than boys. Do we have any class? We can pretend we do now, but don't ask how far we can spit, you will lose!

Fat Girl