Monday, January 30, 2012

She Killed Me Everywhere!

Aunt Anna

This is a short story from my last visit with Dorothy.

(If you're late to the party, and haven't been introduced to Dorothy yet, read THIS, from a couple of years back. Then, in order to get up-to-speed on the current situation, you might read THIS. You could read THIS, too, but it won't do as much good. I'm just giving you that link because I'm going to be embarrassed in the story that follows, so, to make me feel better, I'll embarrass her again.)

After a visit with Dorothy, any story I choose to tell will usually be some tale about her. In this instance, it is about me. She happened to witness it, and she asked me if I remembered it. I said I didn't.

(If I had any sense of shame, I probably wouldn't tell you this.)

(Thus far, I've told you I'm going to be embarrassed and ashamed. That should be enough to keep you reading, eh?)

The scene is Aunt Anna's kitchen. Aunt Anna was my great aunt, Dorothy's mother. From the way Dorothy tells the story, it appears I was being babysat while my parents were, perhaps, at a movie or something of that nature. I am two years old, Dorothy is thirty-two, and Aunt Anna is somewhere in her late fifties. The kitchen is just an ordinary sort of kitchen of indeterminate age. It has two sinks, though. That's important.

As Dorothy related the story to me, here's what happened:

Aunt Anna was busy in the kitchen, doing some laundry. She had a load of her husband's white shirts in one of the kitchen sinks. She had been scrubbing them by hand, as she did not have a washing machine. When she was finished scrubbing one in the first sink, she'd wring it out and pile it into the other sink. The plan was to hang them out to dry when they were all washed.

Meanwhile, I'm doing whatever sort of stuff a two-year-old boy does to amuse himself. I then realize I need to go to the bathroom.

I tell Dorothy this news, and she takes me to the toilet in their apartment. Problem is that Uncle Roy, Aunt Anna's husband, is using it.

Dorothy asks me if I can hold it for a little while. I reply that I can't, that I have to pee RIGHT NOW.

Dorothy sees the urgency in my look, and she knows her father's bathroom habits, so she weighs those factors and brings me into the kitchen. She tells Aunt Anna the problem.

Anna is a decisive woman, and she figures out an immediate solution. She hands me an empty Coke bottle and tells me to go in it, saying I can empty it after I'm finished. I'm two, and I'm desperate. No problem. I pull down my pants, make the necessary arrangements to accomplish the task at hand, and relieve myself into the Coke bottle. Meanwhile, Dorothy has gone to do something else, and Aunt Anna has left the kitchen, perhaps to retrieve a laundry basket.

I am standing there with a Coke bottle full of pee. I don't want to be standing there with a Coke bottle full of pee. I want to get rid of it and go back to doing whatever a two-year-old boy does to amuse himself.

Since I'm only two-years-old, I'm short. I can't see the sinks, but I can see where the sinks are. And I'm smart enough to know that sinks have drains. Water goes down drains. Pee is like water. Therefore...

I reach up and empty the Coke bottle into the second sink where Aunt Anna has been putting all of Uncle Roy's nice clean white shirts.

Just as I'm finishing doing that, Aunt Anna comes back into the kitchen. She sees what I'm doing and gets just a tiny bit peeved.

"Jimmy! What are you doing?!?", she says, and before I have the chance to give the obvious answer, she gives me a slight cuff on the back of my head and then a small one to my bottom.

(At this point in the story, Dorothy assured me that her mother was immediately sorry for having hit me, however slight the hits may have been, and would have taken them back in a flash. However, I have to say that I understand her actions completely. If somebody poured fresh pee all over something I had been cleaning for the past hour, I'd likely give them worse than what I got.)

Being two, and not knowing why I had been given a couple of love taps, I ran into the parlor, Aunt Anna close behind. I screamed, "She killed me everywhere! She killed me everywhere!"

Chaos reigned for about a half-minute, until Uncle Roy came running out of the bathroom to find out why there was a general insurrection in his living room. We all told our parts of the story, and it became clear that it was a case of not enough information all around. Aunt Anna had, of course, meant for me to empty the bottle in the toilet, but hadn't said exactly that (which would have been wise, considering she was dealing with a two-year-old.) Having no idea concerning the shirts, I had done what I thought was expedient and right. Dorothy had left the scene of the crime once the Coke bottle was introduced the first time, not having any great desire to witness the filling of same. And Uncle Roy was otherwise occupied throughout, until his serenity had been disrupted by the shouting.

I have it on good authority that I was given a chocolate, told why I shouldn't have done what I did (but also assured that it wasn't really my fault), and that I then quieted down and went back to doing whatever it is that amuses a two-year-old boy. I'm apparently none the worse for wear, since I didn't recall a single bit of it as Dorothy told me about it, and it affords me the opportunity to ask once again that you send Dorothy a card or letter, if you have the time, so it may turn out to be a very good thing that I peed all over Aunt Anna's clean laundry.

Dorothy's address:

Dorothy Luff, Room 103
c/o Milford Care & Rehabilitation
10 Veterans Memorial Drive
Milford, MA 01757-2900

She loves getting mail, and thank you very much to those who have sent her some. You're the best!

Soon, with more better stuff.


Michelle H. said...

That is about the cutest "pee accident" story I've ever heard. "She killed me everywhere." You killed me with laughter after that story.

Craig said...

I congratulate you, for not even once reaching for the obvious gag that Aunt Anna was pissed. . . An' lissen. . . I don't want to see you get a bad rap; you didn't exactly 'pee' on Aunt Anna's laundry - you just dumped your pee on it. . .

That coke-bottle trick can come in real handy when you get caught in the 50 miles between rest areas on the highway (altho you wanna make sure you have a big enough coke bottle). . .

Craig said...

An' you know, with this story, you could apply to become an honorary Yooper. Because, you know. . . You Pee. . .


Angie Ledbetter said...

Oh, the joys of childhood memories! :)

PeeEss (LOL), you won the photo caption contest at my blawg, so email me your snail mail so I can get your prize to ya?

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip, said...

I can't believe you were only two.

And, yeah, I agree with Craig. You could be a Yooper

stephen Hayes said...

A great story and wonderfully told. But I have a hard time believing that a two year old wouldn't think pee in a Coke bottle one of the most wonderful things in the world.

The Broad said...

You know as soon as you gave the scenario -- two sinks, laundry, rinsing -- I knew exactly what you had somehow done! Comes from raising 3 boys and having 3 grandsons, I suppose! ;-)

Buck said...

I thought the post-mortem was the funniest bit... Uncle Roy convening everyone to find out exactly what happened tickled my funny bone. Dunno why...

Karen said...

Bhaha... love this story!

Jackie said...

I'm impressed that as a two-year-old you were potty trained. Good on ya. That is indeed a marvelous feat.
I love the stories Aunt Dorothy is sharing with you and in turn you sharing them with us.
I can see a two-year-old doing exactly what you did withe the Coke bottle. Seems reasonable...since you couldn't see into the sink to see that it was occupied. Wonderful story!!!
Hugs to you, my friend.

Carolina said...

*chuckling* Poor aunt Anna. Imagine walking in on you doing... that! Ughh. No wonder she 'killed you everywhere' ;-)

Chris said...

Great story . . .well told as always.

At least you didn't put the bottle back in the fridge.

messymimi said...

At two, you had and have nothing to be embarrassed about.

Great story, my mom tells a few similar tales of growing up in a house with one bathroom and a head of household who took his time with his morning constitutional.

Unknown said...

I have a two year old who has declared herself a non-believer in the potty.

...although yesterday, I got her out of bed from a nap, let her run around for a couple hours, fed her dinner, and as I got her ready for a bath realized that during said nap, she'd taken off her pants, and her diaper, and put her pants back on.

By some miracle, that's where the story ends. ...could have ended up a pretty crappy story.

Shrinky said...

Oh my God, this cuffing around the head child abuse is patently the direct cause of how all your hair fell out in later life - is it too late to sue?

I'm glad Dorothy is still full of these tales, and has the humour to relate them. It's obvious you and her share a close bond together, I'm sure these visits must mean a lot to both of you.

Thanks for the chuckles!

Sueann said...

This is a great tale and I am glad she remembered it. So funny!
Yes a rap in the head or on the bottom was the mode for the day,
We need more of that today!! Sigh!

lime said...

poor kid, what a conundrum for a lil guy. love the stories dorothy shares. love that you share them with us,

Clare Dunn said...

Oh, sides are splitting.

"She killed me everywhere."
I'm gonna hafta use some variance of that line one of these days, it's too good! (and I'm a damn sight older than 2!)

Love to Dorothy,
You, too
xoxoxo cd

Anonymous said...

I need to find a way to use that somewhere: She killed me everywhere!

Anonymous said...

If I was uncle Roy I'd have laughed my ass off....

Anonymous said...

I'm glad I don't drink soda pop; I couldn't drink Coke now without thinking of pee. :-D may turn out to be a very good thing that I peed all over Aunt Anna's clean husband always says everything happens for a reason...I guess sometimes it just takes about 50 years to find out the reason.....

silly rabbit said...

I was laughing as soon as I saw the title of this one. What a great story! I have seen and dealt with many desperate little boys (three of my own and a bazillion kindergarteners). Few were this funny!

Anonymous said...

You poured pee over your Uncle's nice CLEAN white shirts?

And you live?


Apparently, you were a little liar too. "She killed me everywhere!"


Anonymous said...

Love it! And no need to be embarrassed, you were two!
Isn't it fun hearing stories of your childhood!? I love it when my family talks about things that have happened.

Jenn Flynn-Shon said...

Hilarious, even if it is a little embarassing to recall. Dorothy sure has some good ones stored up there and its nice we get to benefit with a laugh or two over the antics of your youth when you share what she's shared :-)

Anonymous said...

There is no way I would have left any of my three alone with a coke bottle full of pee at any age. And at two, I wouldn't have even trusted them to pee into the bottle! Obviously, you've always been quite advanced!

Babs said...

1 bathroom, 1 coke bottle a great Aunt =a great story. Don't ya love memories?

Joanna Jenkins said...

OMGosh.... I'm laughing and trying not to. What a hoot. But, in the end you got chocolate so it all worked out ;-)

Hilary said...

I can not imagine a two year old boy having the coordination and aim to pee into a coke bottle. I'm impressed!

Ruby said...

LOL! That was hilarious :)

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