(if you are grossed out easily by bathroom humor - this blog is not for you)
James Henry weighs 56 pounds at 7 1/2 years old - he is also 56 inches tall. Which means there is NOTHING to him. Big strong wind comes up - he's holding onto anything and everything for fear of blowing straight away.
Violet weighs 52 pounds, is not 52 inches tall. She's thick. The kid is built just like her dad and is a muscular force. When she and James get to wrestling I have to tell her to ease up on him - for fear she'll snap him in half.
Everything James eats moves RIGHT THROUGH him. It doesn't stick around to check out the scenery. James eats - James goes to the bathroom.
He's become known around these parts as "El Hedor Frequente" (The one who frequently stinks up the bathroom..which isn't an exact translation but you get it).
We've all taken to spotting James heading towards the john. Instantly, each of us runs for the air freshener and just starts spraying. A preemptive attempt to thwart the end result of his bathroom visits.
Yesterday was epic in the "what's that horrible smell?" department at our house (which sadly, is a department in which there are multiple possibilities). It seems like every five minutes there was an unholy smell and Maisy and I were forced to air freshen constantly. It was happening every time James had just gone to the bathroom.
After 1 visit I entered, thinking that maybe someone had died in there to find: an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet and crap on the walls, floor, and light switch (literally. not figuratively).
"OH MY LORD!" I screamed.
"WHAT HAPPENED IN HERE!?"
"JAMES HENRY! What is WRONG WITH YOU?"
James came out of his bedroom and said, "What?" Completely innocent.
I said, "You know what."
He responded, "I know a lot - true. But not what."
I just looked at him - trying to glare the confession out of him.
He just looked back at me. Wide eyed, skinny, and innocent. Clad only in boxer shorts (his weekend wardrobe).
I just said, "Next time you have an episode like this. Call for help. I will help you."
"Mom. I can assure you. I need no help. I didn't do that."
I just answered with a "Pfffft." and went about cleaning.
25 minutes goes by. James leave the bathroom. I notice horrible stench. Enter bathroom to find same mess, repeated, only more intense.
"JAMES HENRY! WHAT THE HELL!?"
James came out of his room, innocent looking again. Maisy came upstairs and said, "Good God James, what did you eat?"
James said: "Well, it's more like what haven't I eaten. But I didn't do that."
I did the glare of honesty again....but didn't get any response from him. He just traipsed back into his room.
So, i yelled. "I'm serious, man. If you are going to have an EVENT like that. TELL ME. I WILL HELP YOU."
To which James said, "I WILL! I WILL! I WILL TELL YOU IF I'M GOING TO POOP EVERYWHERE."
I'm cleaning up the bathroom, livid and hating life. I finish up and head back to lesson planning (completely annoyed).
I see James go into the bathroom.
Naturally I holler, "STOP RIGHT THERE. I'm coming with you."
"That's weird mom."
"Not weird. Seems like it's necessary."
In we both go. He does he business. Glares at me the entire time. "SEE! SEE! I KNOW how to NOT explode all over the bathroom!"
I laughed and said, "Well. Alright. Then who has been doing it?"
James said, serious as ever, "I don't know mom. But I feel like i'm being framed."
The two of us started walking out of the bathroom and out of the corner of my eye I see Violet....little body pushed up against the wall, like a spy. As soon as we cleared the bathroom door, and out of sight, she slid right in.
I thought, "Hmmmmm..."
So, naturally I sidled up against the door and peaked in.
There she was, in gastric distress, using another roll of toilet paper and making her marks.
I burst into the bathroom and said, "Violet! Goodness! What are you doing?"
She quickly answered me with: "James has problems. Poop everywhere."
And from James's room I hear, in the biggest I told you so voice ever, "I KNEW IT! I WAS FRAMED."
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