We have noticed something as of late. Daddy doesn't quite look the same as us. At first we questioned Maman about the odd appearance of Daddy's vagina. Her response was shocking to say the least...it wasn't a vagina at all.
Now we're not completely sure whether or not Daddy is aware of his...issue. We try to discuss it with him...to begin a dialogue so to speak(we do this usually once a day, sometimes twice). He just seems to brush it off as if it's no big deal and he does not want to deal with it. Our daily brief conversation usually goes something like this:
Us: Daddy a un penis
Daddy: Oui
WHAT KIND OF RESPONSE IS THAT??! If I came out and told you that, "by the way, you're different than everyone else" (that we've ever seen), would your response be, "yeah"?
He must be in denial.
That would also explain his reaction when we first became aware of his deformity.
Us: Daddy a un penis
D: Oui
Us: Vois?
D: No
Us: Touche?
D: No
He wasn't even willing to let us confirm what we saw...definitely denial.
So now it has been impressed on us that this "no touching" rule is actually "written in stone". Daddy took his chisel outside and came back holding a rock with "On ne touche pas le penis" carved into it. He says he is going to mount it in our room and the rule applies until we are 25...WTF???
We definitely need to get Daddy some help.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Marriage Tip Number 95...Debunked
While flipping through some of our favourite flyers looking for deals, we came across this ad:
Now, I don't know about you but Barbie better never complain about a damn thing with a hottie like that around (although we thought he should be mildly insulted that he was on for BOGO half price). Now we understand that, when we eventually get into a serious relationship, one of our big rules is: "Don't try to change him" (I mean, it's even marriage tip number 95 HERE...and this apparently mostly applies if you're married to a 1960's aviator??).
My sister and I have discussed it at length and we have decided that Barbie has disproved this little piece of wisdom. We think that "Don't try to change him" is bunk (pardon the strong language). Witness:
This is Ken from 1961 (we know that some of you are judging the author for doing so much research into Ken and we have been told that the author is not ashamed).
In a mere 50 years, Barbie has managed to take this hillbilly (who comes with a shotgun) and turn him into the babe-magnet you see above. We submit to you that there is only one way that Barbie could have accomplished this. A systematic breaking down of his psyche through nagging, subliminal messages during his sleep (as well as possibly some physical torture) and then re-building his mind the way she wanted it...we applaud you Barbie. We hope to follow in your footsteps. Now, the only issue is:
If they guy is going to look the way he does now, we feel that he deserves genitals at this point...I mean, why look and dress like that with no pay off?
Now, I don't know about you but Barbie better never complain about a damn thing with a hottie like that around (although we thought he should be mildly insulted that he was on for BOGO half price). Now we understand that, when we eventually get into a serious relationship, one of our big rules is: "Don't try to change him" (I mean, it's even marriage tip number 95 HERE...and this apparently mostly applies if you're married to a 1960's aviator??).
My sister and I have discussed it at length and we have decided that Barbie has disproved this little piece of wisdom. We think that "Don't try to change him" is bunk (pardon the strong language). Witness:
This is Ken from 1961 (we know that some of you are judging the author for doing so much research into Ken and we have been told that the author is not ashamed).
In a mere 50 years, Barbie has managed to take this hillbilly (who comes with a shotgun) and turn him into the babe-magnet you see above. We submit to you that there is only one way that Barbie could have accomplished this. A systematic breaking down of his psyche through nagging, subliminal messages during his sleep (as well as possibly some physical torture) and then re-building his mind the way she wanted it...we applaud you Barbie. We hope to follow in your footsteps. Now, the only issue is:
If they guy is going to look the way he does now, we feel that he deserves genitals at this point...I mean, why look and dress like that with no pay off?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Oh The Horror
We are going to write about this incident in the hopes that others can learn from it. We understand the embarrassment that could come along if this is read 10 years from now but we want to make sure that other toilet-training children know what they are in for.
These were the early days of learning to spend time around the house without diapers. They were dangerous days. My sister was more willing to test these waters than I was (the brave soul). One dreary day, while alone with Maman, my sister says she has to use the bathroom. We have a lovely Dora potty (picked up cheap on Facebook, of course) and so she heads over there and sits down to do her business. Like a good girl, she completes her business...and this is where things went wrong.
She decided that she wanted to look...
Daddy still proclaims to this day that he doesn't know why someone would insist on taking a gander at their own 'caca'. Maman usually just rolls her eyes and reminds him that we are 2 years old and that logic doesn't apply here (nor does common decency apparently).
She wanted to look and, after being cleaned up, she turned around and stared into the Dora pot. Almost immediately, you could see the regret spread across her face and she burst into tears. She runs across the floor and throws herself, sobbing, into Maman's arms. Poor thing.
You know how in horror films how we sit there watching someone open a door that 95% of the world knows better than to open. Well that's what happened to me in this situation. I saw my sister's reaction and decided that I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I make my way past my mother who is comforting my sister (still wailing) and peer into the Dora pot...
I must have blacked out at that point because the next thing I know, I'm in my mother's arms, right next to my sister and we are both inconsolable.
I can't be sure but I thought for a second that my mother was laughing at us. Of course, that wouldn't make sense in our time of need so I must be mistaken in that recollection.
I guess there is a reason that most people don't stare at freshly dropped deuces. A lesson that my sister and I have both learned...the hard way.
These were the early days of learning to spend time around the house without diapers. They were dangerous days. My sister was more willing to test these waters than I was (the brave soul). One dreary day, while alone with Maman, my sister says she has to use the bathroom. We have a lovely Dora potty (picked up cheap on Facebook, of course) and so she heads over there and sits down to do her business. Like a good girl, she completes her business...and this is where things went wrong.
She decided that she wanted to look...
Daddy still proclaims to this day that he doesn't know why someone would insist on taking a gander at their own 'caca'. Maman usually just rolls her eyes and reminds him that we are 2 years old and that logic doesn't apply here (nor does common decency apparently).
She wanted to look and, after being cleaned up, she turned around and stared into the Dora pot. Almost immediately, you could see the regret spread across her face and she burst into tears. She runs across the floor and throws herself, sobbing, into Maman's arms. Poor thing.
You know how in horror films how we sit there watching someone open a door that 95% of the world knows better than to open. Well that's what happened to me in this situation. I saw my sister's reaction and decided that I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I make my way past my mother who is comforting my sister (still wailing) and peer into the Dora pot...
I must have blacked out at that point because the next thing I know, I'm in my mother's arms, right next to my sister and we are both inconsolable.
I can't be sure but I thought for a second that my mother was laughing at us. Of course, that wouldn't make sense in our time of need so I must be mistaken in that recollection.
I guess there is a reason that most people don't stare at freshly dropped deuces. A lesson that my sister and I have both learned...the hard way.
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