Friday, June 24, 2011


She's 7 years old, in the 99th+ percentile for height, and has the shape of a runway model (meaning her three measurements are roughly the same).  She received the nickname "Foghorn" during a trip to our local Mexican restaurant when her booming voice boomed even louder and my sister snarled, "OK, foghorn, keep it down."  Her interests include Spongebob, Monster High dolls, and farts.  She categorizes the latter.  A few weeks ago she was describing to us a "fire fart" or "flaming fart" which, according to her, feels like fire is coming out of your butt.  While waiting for the doors to open at school the other day she informed me from the back seat of the van that she had just done a "porcupine fart," which feels like there are little pricklies coming out of your butt and kinda hurts.  She is obsessed with body parts and The Warden is fed up with coming down to the kitchen and finding obscene pictures drawn on her grocery list chalkboard.  (And how exactly does that girl know in detail what a circumcised penis looks like?)  Her crude talk horrifies her grandmother and would have thrilled her late grandfather.  He was amused enough when she was 3 years old and I told him the story of going to the Cincinnati Art Museum, where a towering nude male statue stands just inside the entrance.  Somehow she only noticed him once we were on his backside (literally).  Suddenly she looks up and in her explosive foghorn voice  hollered, "Look!  His butt!"  She frowned and bellowed, "Where's his penis?"  She quickly scampered to his  front and announced, "There it is!"

Foghorn at the school Thanksgiving lunch, dressed as a pilgrim.
Her much-loved nemesis is her aunt, my sister, who is now permanently called "Uncle Chester".  Sydney consistently calls her "Chester" loudly and in public and also insists that she is a boy (which causes some embarrassment for my sister when she takes Foghorn places like public restrooms and then is told she should not be in there because she's a male).  Of late the nickname has morphed into the much longer Schnooger Boogers Chester.  Verbally, and sometimes physically, abusing Chester is a popular inmate pass time.

If talking burns mega-calories then that explains Foghorn's bony physique.  She is neither quiet nor curvy.  When listening to Foghorn I sometimes go back to a quote from Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy regarding the alien's observation of humans' talking habits:  "If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working."  Her non-stop chatter and accompanying calorie burning may also account for what I lovingly refer to as her "meat cleaver ass."  She has absolutely the boniest butt ever put on a human being and when she climbs into my lap I get stabbing pains in my upper thighs.  I, unfortunately, frequently comment on this physical feature as I cry out in pain and then inform her that she doesn't have enough "junk in her trunk."  This led to an incident at Dewey's Pizza a month ago when, in the presence of the waitress, she asked for more pizza saying, in a matter of fact tone, "I have to have more pizza.  I have a meat cleaver ass and I need more junk in my trunk."  Foghorn's antics in restaurants and harassment of the waitstaff  has led me to frequently comment to the adults in my life about the subsequent spike in condom sales as a result of an interaction with Foghorn.

As a toddler she was voted Most Likely To Climb Into The Dishwasher And Turn It On.  Today she gets the trophy for Child Most Likely To Be Suspended From First Grade For Using The F-Word, as well as Child Most Likely To Grow Up To Be A Pole Dancer.

-- Originally written in December 2010.

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