With the Band
by Ashley Weeks Cart
As James mentioned, this past week, our talented friends of the band Darlingside were holed up in our neighbor’s pool house song-writing and recording. It’s always a treat to have them nearby, and the girls so enjoyed visiting them mid-process. They even got to try their hand at the drums and rock out to a jam session.
James was beyond thrilled when the guys asked him to “lay some vocals” for one of their songs. All of them, James included, sang a capella for Williams during their college years, so James was excited to get back in the game for an evening. As he said, “I have really small testicles, so I can hit those high notes for them.”
His words, y’all. His. Words.
ANYWAY!
One night we had everyone down to our house for dinner, and Sunny was ecstatic as she has a major crush on Auyon (don’t we all?). We let her stay up and hang at the table, and, to no one’s surprise, she lived up to her age by boldly declaring mid-meal that she had to defecate.
She headed off to the bathroom, and reappeared shortly thereafter. James and I, concerned that she had not requested our wiping assistance, inquired if she had indeed pooped, and if so, why she had not required our help. She glared at us, clearly enraged that we had suggested that she was incapable of wiping her own ass in front of company, then dramatically pulled down her pants, bent over, and shouted, SEE! I WIPED! THERE’S NO POOP!
And boom! Apparently, preschoolers are the world’s best birth control.To gross out an entire band of 20-something year old dudes with a full moon takes real talent. James is so proud. And Darlingside may never accept another invitation to dine chez Cart.
Perhaps the girls’ dance moves can convince them otherwise.