The Farting Tuna

Saturday evening at Mom's house, I am downstairs in Ella's bedroom with her and Mom. Mom and I are lounging around and chatting while Ella plays with her toys. She brings over her baby doll and tucks it into the bed. I ask what the baby's name is.

"Tuna."

Your baby's name is Tuna? "Yes. Tuna," she says completely matter-of-factly. Really, Ella, are you serious? Her name is Tuna? "Yes, she's Tuna." Tuna?? "TUNA. She's TUNA." She raises her voice a little and looks at me as if she's talking to a moron, because she just cannot understand why I might question a perfectly acceptable, traditional name such as Tuna. She's three; I'm not pressing the issue any further.

Next to Tuna is her stuffed cat she recently got from Build-A-Bear. It's an orange striped kitty, dressed in a button-down shirt, vest & tie - clearly, a boy kitty cat. What's kitty's name? "Jenna," she replies without hesitation. Ohhh-kay. I'm definitely leaving that issue alone because who am I to say that Jenna the girl cat can't dress like a boy or that Jenna the boy cat can't have a girl's name? That's just not Aunt Kimmie's jurisdiction.

What does *ahem* Tuna eat? She rushes over to her toys and starts digging, digging, digging, searching for what I assume is going to be a baby doll bottle. Finally she does bring over a bottle. But she also has in her little hand a plastic orange slice, which she proceeds to try to cram down pour little Tuna's plastic throat. "Owenges! Tuna eats owenges!" She answers triumphantly. At this point, Mom and I are practically crying from laughing so hard. This is one strange baby Ella has, I'm thinking: Baby Tuna feasts on oranges and hangs out with a gender-bending cat named Jenna. Have I mentioned lately how much I absolutely ADORE my little niece?!

Since Tuna obviously dances to the beat of a different drum, I decide to play along and make the situation worse, because I like to think I'm good for something. I grab Tuna and make her stand up. In my best Fat Albert voice (Fat Albert because, hey, why not?), I make Tuna speak. "Ella, feed me my orange. Give me my bottle of bean milk. Or I'll fart on you! I'll fart right on your face. Give me my bean milk 'cause I need more gas!" PTHHHHHHHHHH!! (loud obnoxious fart sounds)

Oh my God, I don't think I've ever seen Ella laugh so hard or for so long before. The girl dropped to her knees, gasping for air, and put laughing hyenas to shame. Then, right in the middle of it all, she abruptly sat up, stopped laughing, and had this strange look of surprise on her face.

"I peed."

Aunt Kimmie is crude and disgusting, but I don't care. I made my three-year old niece laugh so freakin' hard she peed her tiny little pants. Life is sweet.