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Originally Posted: 2003-05-29 08:54
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Hemorrhoid, hemorrhoid, hemorrhoid…

This is to the woman who passed by while my niece was chanting “Hemorrhoid, hemorrhoid, hemorrhoid…” over and over. You looked as embarrassed as I felt. I wanted to explain but I needed to get my niece back to the restaurant to finish her dinner.

See, my sister, her daughter and I were camping up in the Sierras when we decided to have dinner at that restaurant. My niece, being only 9 years old, has to go to the bathroom, like, every 20 minutes. As you know the bathrooms at that restaurant are about 100 feet away and the path is dark at night. After my sister’s third trip to the bathrooms with her daughter I offered to take my niece on her forth trip.

I used to men’s room and then waited outside the ladies room. It was taking my niece so long that I thought maybe she had already gone back to the restaurant without me.

“Allie? You still in there?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh. I’m going number two.”

“Oh. Okay.” More information than I needed but she’s a little girl.

I waited a little longer.

“Allie? Everything okay?”

“Ye-es!” She shouts, sounding a bit miffed.

“You’re taking a long time. We need to get back to our dinner.”

“I can’t go. It won’t come out.” I scan around to see if anybody is listening to this.

“Well. Try pushing or something.” I don’t have children so I don’t really know how to talk to kids.

“I don’t want to get a hormone.”

“Uh. Oh. Wha…uh.” Like I said, I don’t have children so I don’t know what kids are saying half the time. “Well. We should get back. Your mother is going to worry and our dinner is getting cold.” Finally she comes out.

On the walk back she says to me “I was afraid I would get a hormone.” I didn’t say anything back because I have no idea what she is talking about. But then she adds “Granny Rogers told me that if I push too hard I’ll get a hormone.”

Click. Now I get it.

“Oh, hon. You don’t mean hormone. You mean hemorrhoid.” She looks up at me and says “Hermer… hermer…” And I enunciate for her “HEM-ER-ROID” and thinking to myself that I could never handle kids fulltime.

She stops in her tracks and repeats the word correctly “Hem-er-roid.”

“Yes, that’s it. Hemorrhoid.” She smiles proudly and we continue down the path back to the restaurant. That’s when you passed by. My niece was only practicing the new word she had just learned.

“Hemorrhoid…hemorrhoid…hemorrhoid…”

PS And to all the good folks at the Foster's Freeze the next day: I'm sorry Allie vomited 3 steps in the door instead of outside. She was carsick.

post id: 11817142