Diarrhea Wimpy Kid!

Tonight I was in the van with Nanny Peggy and the four kids. It seemed like a good idea for me to reach my hand back to Micah's and say, "See how hard you can squeeze my hand." I think my dad played some variation of this "game" with Colin & Tristen & I when we were younger.

Micah proceeded to pull my pinkie away from my other fingers, and this actually hurts quite a bit. (Go ahead; try it at home.) I cried out, "Ooh, oh, Micah! That hurts." To which he responded, "You're so wimpy, Cara!"

I was in rare form tonight (like one of those it's 2:00 in the morning and I'm becoming delirious moments, but really it's 6:45 pm and I'm in the van with four kids, and I need to keep it together...), so I started raising the roof (go ahead; try that at home too) and singing something like, "Oh yeah! I'm so weak. I'm such a wuss. La la la..."

And then Micah started chanting, "Diary of a wimpy kid! Diary of a wimpy kid!" But it sounded just like he was saying, "Diarrhea wimpy kid!" which is so much funnier. The girls joined in the chorus. One singing, "Cara is booty! Cara is booty!" Another singing, "Cara coqui poopy! Cara coqui poopy!"

I let their little chants wash over me, and I thought to myself, "I've got to watch the potty language."