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“Eugh.”
Mellie looked up as the bathroom door opened and Uncle Dingo hopped out, glaring at his raised bare foot like it had personally offended him. She tilted her head to the side as he hopped past where she was sitting at the kitchen table with KK and her Papa, coloring, to the sink, where he proceeded to hoist his leg – more specifically, his foot – into said sink and turn the water on.
“What’cha doing?” she asked as he continued to glare and grumble at his foot. He looked up, still scowling.
“Washing me foot,” he said, pumping some of the hand soap Maman kept there onto his hand and lathering it onto his foot.
“Why?” she asked. KK kicked at her, and her frown turned into a pout as she turned to him.
“You wash your feet,” he said, as if that was answer enough. Mellie puffed out her cheeks.
“Not there,” she said, pointing to the sink in question. “I wash feet in the bath. Like a normal person.”
“…well, Papa’s not normal,” KK said, shrugging. Mellie looked back at her uncle and nodded.
“I guess,” she said, shrugging herself. “Uncle Ding’s weird.”
Uncle Dingo looked like he wanted to argue that point, but Papa was staring at him funny, too.
“…why are you washing your feet in the kitchen sink, Ding?” he asked, putting his own crayon down. His picture wasn’t as pretty as hers, Mellie noted. He had only colored one flower before he’d started drawing those funny lines and scribbles on the side. She wasn’t strong enough with her letters yet to understand what exactly he’d been writing, but she recognized a lot of big, swirly Ms, like in her name and Maman’s.
“Because for having two kids and being a veritable giant, your guest bathroom is freakishly small, Lulu,” Uncle Dingo said, scrubbing harder at his foot. His face started turning as red as her crayon as he looked back at his foot – even the tips of his ears were turning red. “..and I peed on me foot.”
Papa made a funny snorting, snickering sound, but before Mellie could even properly express her disgust he just asked: “Again?”
…again?
“It’s not me fault!” Uncle Dingo cried, waving a hand above his head. “You know I can’t read and aim, and Mari put a new sign up, and –”
“That’s been up for a month now, dumbass,” Papa said, grinning. Uncle Dingo scowled and went back to scrubbing his foot. Mellie’s nose scrunched up as she watched him.
“You’re gisdusting,” she said with all the authority of her two and a half years. He perked up, lifting his sunglasses to blink at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Gwoss.”
…Papa just snorted again. And tossed his head back as a laugh ripped through him, until he was wheezing and thumping a fist on the table and..
“Papaaaaaaa!” she squealed when he farted. Like Granarchy’s old goat.
And it stinkied, too.
“Papa, you pooted!” she cried, clapping her hands over her nose. “Gwoss, gwoss, gwoss!”
…and KK, the dummy, was laughing as her Papa grinned at her.
“Sorry, songbird,” he said, waving a hand in the air as if he could get rid of the smell – which he couldn’t. Because he stinkied. She turned to KK, her hands still clapped over her nose.
“Stop laughing!” she cried, her voice muffled from how tight she was holding her nose. “It gwoss!”
“It’s boys,” KK said, grinning as Uncle Dingo walked over and high-fived her Papa. “Papa poots all the time. And me. Sometimes we see who poots the most and Maman yells.”
Mellie was horrified, because that was absolutely gisdusting, but their papas weren’t paying them any mind.
“Nice,” Uncle Dingo said, taking a deep breath and cackling. “God, that is rank. What’s Mari been feeding you lately?”
“Cruciferous vegetation,” Papa said with a grin of his own, but at Uncle Dingo’s confused look he rolled his eyes. “Brussel sprouts.”
“They was gwoss, too,” Mellie grumbled through her hands. She scowled at her Papa as he reached over and ruffled her hair.
“Sorry, songbird,” he said again, “but people fart. It’s perfectly natural. You fart all the time.”
“Do not!” she said, sitting straighter in her chair and puffing her cheeks out. “I’m a lady!”
Papa just smiled, one eyebrow lifting higher than the other. She wished she could do that – her face just scrunched funny every time she tried.
“Uh-huh,” he said. She squealed as he scooped her up and sat her down on his lap. “Suuuure you don’t, ladybird.”
Her squeals turned to giggles as he tickled her sides, and then – much to her own horror – she farted, too.
“Mellie pooted!” KK cried, pointing a finger at her and cackling. “Mellie pooted, Mellie pooted, Mellie pooted!”
“Shut up did not!” she cried, squirming. “Papa! No, no, no! I stinkied, too!”
“It’s ok, Mels,” he laughed, hugging her close. “Everyone does it – even Maman.”
She gasped, her eyes going wide as he winked at her, but a voice from the door distracted her from yelling at him for such a mean lie (because that was her Maman and Maman would NEVER –).
“Maman does what now?”
They all turned to see Maman at the door, dropping her keys in the dish as Harmony kicked off her shoes. With her shoes off, her big sister started to come into the kitchen – until she stopped just shy of the table, her nose scrunching.
“Oh, gross,” she said. “Who farted?”
To Mellie’s horror, Papa, Uncle Dingo, and KK all raised their hands. When KK’s eyes widened and he started to open his mouth, Papa poked her side and she raised her hand, too. Harmony looked gisdusted, but Maman just laughed and walked over, shaking her head. She laid a hand on Papa’s shoulder and bent down as he tipped his head back, grinning up at her.
“Animals, all of you,” she said, but she didn’t sound angry or grossed out. She went to kiss Papa, but Mellie squealed and reached up, clapping her hands on Maman’s cheeks and pushing her back.
“Maman, no! You can’t – Papa’s gwoss!” she cried. “He stinkied! Gwoss Papas don’t get smoochies!”
“Not my smoochies,” Papa whined, tipping his head back against Maman dramatically. Mellie missed the way he winked at her as she again cried no smoochies for stinkies!
“I hate to tell you, sweetie, but he stinkies all the time,” Maman laughed. She grinned at Papa, tapping his nose with her pink-tipped finger. “At least you’re not working the delivery job anymore. You really stinkied then.”
“At lease you’re not pregnant anymore,” he shot back. “You could clear an entire auditorium with your baby gas.”
“Luka!” Maman gasped, her face turning red, and he laughed as he tugged her face down and kissed her. “Jerk.”
“You love me,” he said. He kissed her again, despite the gagging noises Mellie started making. “At least I’m not as bad as this one. He peed on his foot and washed it in the kitchen sink.”
Maman’s head shot up, her Angry Face on.
“Dingo!” she cried, but Uncle Dingo just shrugged.
“Eh, it happens,” he said. He ruffled Harmony’s hair as she finally approached the table, her hands still over her nose. “Not even the first time this week. Hey, squirt. Appointment go ok?”
“I’m a bean pole,” she mumbled, her voice sounding funny. Papa looked up at Maman, who rolled her eyes.
“She’s on her way to being as tall and skinny as her papa,” she said, kissing his forehead. “Your little ball of chaos is one hundred percent Couffaine.”
“That’s my girl,” Papa laughed. Maman hummed and scooped Mellie up in her arms.
“Come on, you,” she said. “Let’s get you to your dentist appointment before Papa stinkies again.”
“You sure?” Papa asked. “You took Harm to her checkup. I can take Mellie to the dentist.”
“It’s fine,” Maman said, adjusting her grip on Mellie as she wrapped her arms around her neck. “Bri’s still at work for a bit, so who will entertain Dingo if you go?”
“Oi!” Uncle Dingo cried, looking up from where he had sat beside KK. He’d been flipping through her coloring book, looking for his own picture to work on. “I’m a grown-ass man, I’ll have you know – I don’t need no babysitting!”
“Yes,” Maman said dryly, rolling her eyes. “A grown-ass man who pees on his foot like his toddler. Totally fine being left unsupervised.”
She paused, her nose scrunching.
“…you only peed on your foot, right?” she asked suspiciously. “You didn’t pee on my rug, did you?”
When Uncle Dingo didn’t answer, Maman groaned and threw her head back, muttering something about Tikki give me strength. When Papa started snickering and Maman reminded him that he better have it washed by the time they got back, Mellie just tugged on her shirt and scrunched her face at her.
“See?” she asked, shaking her head. “Gisdusting.”