Uncle Clyde, - This story is straight off the request line. Mom has been harassing me to write this one up for a while. She always seems to get pleasure out of my embarrassment. So this ones for her...
To tell this story right I need to explain a few of the reasons for why I am the way I am when it comes to meeting the other moms of the kids from school. For those of you who don't know, I am only 15 years older than Austin. To make things more awkward, I look like I'm about 17 even now. I often get weird looks and stares from older people when I am out with the kids. One time I was pumping gas at a gas station and all the kids kept rolling the windows down and hollering, "Mom! Mom!" This old guy pumping gas beside me shook his head at me and said, "You're just a kid yourself and having all those kids!" If I hadn't been so shocked, I would have told him just where he could pump that gas, but I was frozen in disgust.
A few more of these incidents have made me a little self-conscious. When I meet Austin's teachers each year I can see the, "Great! Another teeny-bopper with a kid" look on their faces. I really have to earn their respect. In their defense, there are a ton of young, immature parents out there who don't leave a great impression.
Anyway, lately I find myself trying harder to make a good first impression on the kids teachers and their friend's moms - most of whom are much older than me. So when Austin's friend Bradley was set to come play at our house for the first time, I began to prep the kids about their behavior. I wanted to make a good impression on Bradley's mother since she was going to be trusting him in my care for the day.
Most of Austin's friends moms are in there late thirties or forties and they often look at me like I am a child until they get to know me. It's frustrating. I have been asked frequently if I am his sister. But this time I was going to be prepared. I reminded the kids several times to use "ma'am and sir and please and thank-you". They were to be on their best behavior and display all the wonderful hosting skills I had crammed into their little heads. I felt quite confident in my little family as I watched Bradley and his mother pull into the yard.
Caitlyn spotted them, too, and she ran outside to greet them. I had done a good job coaching her, I thought. As she ran to meet them she yelled, "Hello! My name is Caitlyn. Welcome to our house. Come inside! Come on!"
This was going great! Bradley's mom walked up the steps, but Bradley stopped to play with our dog, Lady Bird. "Hi, I'm Sandy," said Bradley's mom. "It's so nice to meet you, Caitlyn! You are just a doll!" She turned back to look for Bradley and then said, "Oh, it looks like Bradley really likes your dog."
That's when it happened. I watched in horror as all my hard work in manners and hostessing just went right down the drain. Caitlyn looked at Sandy very seriously and said, "Oh, no. Nobody likes her. That's old Lady Turd."
Sandy looked at me a little puzzled and then back at Caitlyn, "What did you say your dog's name was, Sweety?"
I wasted no time answering quickly for her, "Oh, her name is Lady Bird." I said.
But Caitlyn was not having it. She cut her eyes back at me as if she were disappointed in me. "It's okay, Mom. Everybody knows that Lady is a turd and that's why we call her Lady Turd. You know, you call her that too, Mom. You know she's a turd." Then she looks at Sandy and says, "She really is a turd, you'll see."
My face probably turned every shade of red possible. We both waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Sandy began to laugh hysterically. Turns out she is our kinda people. As she left, Caitlyn said, "Thank you so much for coming. It was so nice to meet you. Be careful driving home. Oh, and watch out for Lady Turd when you go."
Sandy looked at me and said, "My family has to meet this kid!"
Later when I told Mom and Dad about what happened, Dad suggested to Caitlyn that she should call our daschund-mix, Roxy, "Fart-Blossom". She loved it!
A few weeks later we were at the bus stop with the kids when the dogs got out of the fence and came down and began to harass all the kids. All the parents were looking around to see who the bothersome dogs that were jumping up on their clean kids belonged to. I was doing a brilliant job of playing dumb. "Stupid dogs! Go back where ever it is you came from!" I said.
Thanks to the wonderful technology we know as automatic windows, with the push of a button Caitlyn's head was out the back window and she was yelling, "Lady Turd! Fart Blossom! You know you aren't supposed to be down here! Get your butts back to the house! Tell 'em, Mom!"
I just rolled my window up and sunk behind the wheel until the bus came. Thanks again, Caitlyn! I am going to remember all of this stuff one day when you are the grown-up and I am the kid!
About a week later Jevon's dad, Al, came over to help Jevon on some projects in the yard. Caitlyn and I were doing a great job of spectating when she looked at Al and said, "Pop-pop, you don't know how to fart, do you?"
He chuckled nervously a little and said, "Uh, yeah Caitlyn, I know how to fart."
She looked up at him questioningly as if she didn't believe him and said, "It's okay, Pop-pop! Me and my dad fart a lot and we can teach you how."
He immediately looked at me and laughed as he asked, "Where does she get this stuff?"
"Don't look at me!" I said.
Amber
Patricia Hen said, "I had this feeling inside me right here and I thought it felt like an egg or something." 
Before long all of the hens in the community wanted to know what was going on inside of them. The elder hen came around wanting to know what was happening. 
Caitlyn is only three years old, but anyone who knows her will describe her as 3 going on 30. She has a charm and intelligence that most people don't obtain until their later years of life, if at all. One of my friends asked her the other day if she is in school yet? 
"So why don't you tell him," I said. 
I was recently telling Jevon that I have never met a child more thrilled to be a sibling than Caleb. I was really concerned when I got pregnant with Caitlyn that he wouldn't be able to cope well with not being the baby anymore. But it could not have been any further from the case. When she was born he instantly coined the name "Baby Squirrel" for her because he could not pronounce "girl". And it stuck. 
Now this may not seem like such a big deal to everyone, but in my house we don't eat a lot of sweets and when the kids do, it is special. Not to mention how much Caleb was enjoying that cone. He handed that cone over without the slightest hesitation. I was awestruck. Of course, Caitlyn accepted the offer without a second thought. "Thanks, K-K!", she said. 
