Rosy loves the kids in her life. And there are plenty of them, too. Her boys, which includes her "simple not stupid" cousin Aaron, and her two boys, The Rock Star and The Pope. Her best friend's kids, the first of whom got his first touch in the world from Rosy. (The mother was yelling, "What's he look like?" And Rosy held the baby at a distance and said, "He's gross! He's all covered with yuck!")
But most especially, she loves the Peanut. I love the Peanut. I doubt that I will ever meet this child, but she has me wrapped around her tiny little pinky already.
Tia Rosy was watching her friend's three girls. There's the Rock Star Girl at 11, the Chubby One at 8, and the Peanut, who's just barely scratching two.
Rosy was watching them at their house and the Rock Star and the Chubby One crammed into a tiny bathroom to change into their bathing suits to go into the pool. They locked the door against Peanut, who promptly began kicking and yelling.
Rosy mock-threatened, "Do I have to come out there, Peanut? Do I?"
Peanut ran into the living room, her fists balled up on her tiny hips and said fiercely, "Yes, you do! You have to open the door and let me get my baby suit!" Then she pointed angrily in the direction of the forbidden bathroom.
I don't know how it turned out, because every time Rosy tells the story, she gets stuck on "Yes, you do!" and laughs until she snorts.
On the same visit, Rosy and Peanut went into the basement to retrieve something. "Oh, Peanut, what's this over here?"
"Dat's just some bullshit," Peanut said.
Rosy gasped. "Peanut! What did you just say?"
Peanut lowered her voice and whispered, "Dat's just some bullshit over there."
Pause.
Peanut whispered, "Mommy's not here!"
"But Tia Rosy is!"
Instant lower lip quiver. Rosy's heart melted.
I never did find out what else happened, because Rosy kept saying, "That girl is just delicious. Delicious. I just want to eat her up. Delicious."
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