Faginers, Pews and Potlucks (Oh My!)

28 Jun

I need a reality show seriously.  What better way to make my kids proud then to document our pure and chaotic dysfunction!  Maybe the hubs and I should use the cameracorder for things other than bedroom antics.  I kid I kid…


We went to brunch Sunday after church and of course sweetness had to go to the restroom.  Because she knows I get psychotic about public restrooms, she waits until the absolute last mintue before telling me she has to “use it”.  So we rush off to the restroom because I know I’ve got 56 seconds before we have a major issue.  Once in there she normally waits for me to wipe down the toilet seat with soap, dry it off and line it.  But I guess she was in such a hurry that she decided to do it herself. As I turn around from locking the door,  I see sweetness using her bare hand to brush some toilet paper crumbs off the seat and into the bowl.  I screamed:

Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  What the hel–hillaryduff are you doing?! (I didn’t want to curse just yet, I try to wait until at least a couple hours after leaving church)

Sweetness: What?

Me:  What are you doing?!?!  You never EVER touch anything on a toilet seat with your bare hands. You don’t know where that came from.  It probably came out of someone’s crevice.  Can you imagine the germs that you just transmitted to your hands?!

Sweetness: Crescent? Like the moon?

Me: (Me and my odd words) No honey, not like the moon.  Crevice.

Sweetness:  What’s that?  Is it a dirty place?

Me: (annoyed with myself that I opened this can of worms I begin to backtrack) Um, well it’s a place like a hole and yes it can be a dirty dirty place.  And in this instance we’re going to pretend that it is a dirty place.  That’s why we need to clean the toilet with soap and paper towel before we sit on it.

Sweetness: (doing the potty dance because I made her wash her dirty little hands before “using it”) Can you please tell me what kind of place could be so dirty?

Me: (why did I raise this inquisitive child?  I need to stop encouraging her to ask questions because it’s putting me in tough situations) Look girl it probably came out of someone’s vagina!

Sweetness: (finally she’s sitting on the toilet) Faginer?  (pronounced: fah-jy-ner) What’s a faginer?

Me: (we call It a princess in our house because you are expected to treat It like royalty) Your Princess.  The scientific name is vagina.  Got it?

Sweetness: Yea I do.  (the lightbulb clicks on) Eww that is gross if I touch something that came out of someone’s Princess faginer.

Me: Riiiight!!!! I’m so glad it clicked!

Sweetness: You’re glad what clicked?

Me: Nevermind, finish up so we can get out of here.

**We exit the restroom, her feeling relieved and me feeling stressed because I know this conversation is not over.


Clearly by the above post you can gather I am somewhat of a germ freak.  So imagine my disgust when I see a woman in church sitting on the pew in front of me changing her grandson’s diaper ON THE PEW as if it was some cozy little changing table.  If we can’t chew gum in the sanctuary then by golly it should be illegal to change a dirty diaper in it too.


I wanted to go get a mani and pedi over the weekend.  And because I wanted a brand new full set of fake (as sweetness says) nails I peeled off my old set one-by-freaking-one.  Talk about pain!  While peeling, I riped one nail straight down the middle of the nail–there was blood, pain and LOTS of cursing–OUCH!  My thumbnails are so brittle I can’t even text message on my cell phone.  And the rest of my nails feel like they’re on fire!!!  If you ever want to torture someone, just pull off their finger nails one-by-freaking-one.  There’s no greater pain the the world!


Oh yea sweetness is working “faginer” into everything under the sun (and sea):

Sweetness: Does Sandy from Spongenbob have a faginer?  And do you think it’s dirty or clean since she’s underwater all the time?

Rule of life#1709 A lady always makes sure her faginer is protected from all outside elements.  Even if she lives under the sea!


Last week I shouted her out as June haha, but really her name is Texas Holly!! Sorry Holly, thanx for not unleashing the blog hounds on me;)


7 Responses to “Faginers, Pews and Potlucks (Oh My!)”

  1. Tamara Burnett June 28, 2010 at 5:58 pm #

    Funny as hell Aonya im a germ freak about public restrooms as well these kiddos are too much u made my day cant wait to see you guys!!!!!!!!~

  2. Texasholly June 28, 2010 at 11:22 pm #

    No one should EVER change a diaper on a church pew…ewww.

    Thanks for potluckin’!

  3. miniskirtmama June 29, 2010 at 3:50 am #

    Poor little Cheyenne. I know I hate changing J on changing tables just because I don’t know who’s had their baby’s faginer or bottom or weewee on the table. Best of luck to being a germaphobe!

  4. stacey@Havoc&Mayhem June 29, 2010 at 8:54 pm #

    oh my! Diaper changing in a pew! I don’t even know what to think about that. I would be appalled.

    My sons thought vagina was pronounced China and for awhile were very worried about ninjas attacking babies as they were being born.

    Because they think ninjas are from china instead of Japan

    • Tree July 1, 2010 at 1:43 am #

      Faginer?! BWWAAAHH HAHA!!! I love it! Oh, and I could feel your pain with the nails!!

      I’m coming over from Bloggy Moms! Love your writing. I’m following your blog now! Stop by and visit me when you get a chance. 🙂


      Mother of Pearl It Is

  5. Teketa July 11, 2010 at 5:08 am #

    Girl, this had me rollin! Kids are great (I say this not having any lol)

  6. IHaveOneNerveLeft January 7, 2011 at 10:06 pm #

    The Sandy question had me laughing so hard i cried!I ran across your blog by accident, but now i’m thinking it was by divine design. I completely relate to EVERY post that i’ve read thus far, it’s like we’re twins separated at birth! Or maybe motherhood just pushes us all to the point of insanity and we can recognize it in other moms! I’ve bookmarked your page and i plan to read it on the regular. Thanks for sharing your experiences with us and validating our fears, experiences, and gripes.

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