OMG -- i remember! Is it two words, and the second word is ... ring ... (or something like that). I don't want to type it for fear my work's sensors will pick it out!
For those who weren't here back then, my MIL stayed with me when Katy was 5 weeks old, to "help" while DH went OOT. MIL is batshit crazy.
On her first day here, MIL decided, based on the tone and pitch of Katy's farts, that her "anal ring" was too tight and I needed to take her to the pedi. When half a day passed and I still had not called the pedi, MIL insisted I drive her to the drugstore to buy a "rubber finger" so that she could teach me how to stretch Katy's "anal ring."
I was horrified at the time. By that evening, when I was trying to explain it to DH over the phone, I found it hysterically funny. I was laughing so hard on the phone that I started to hyperventilate. I had to sit on the floor of my walk-in closet while talking to DH so MIL wouldn't hear me. I could barely get the words out to DH and I was laughing, crying and hyperventilating. DH had no idea what I was trying to tell him and thought I was having a post partum melt down. I was blabbering on about anal rings and rubber fingers and he thought I was losing my mind.
Re: I have a recipe for disaster...
Yep--it's the infamous "anal ring" story.
For those who weren't here back then, my MIL stayed with me when Katy was 5 weeks old, to "help" while DH went OOT. MIL is batshit crazy.
On her first day here, MIL decided, based on the tone and pitch of Katy's farts, that her "anal ring" was too tight and I needed to take her to the pedi. When half a day passed and I still had not called the pedi, MIL insisted I drive her to the drugstore to buy a "rubber finger" so that she could teach me how to stretch Katy's "anal ring."
I was horrified at the time. By that evening, when I was trying to explain it to DH over the phone, I found it hysterically funny. I was laughing so hard on the phone that I started to hyperventilate. I had to sit on the floor of my walk-in closet while talking to DH so MIL wouldn't hear me. I could barely get the words out to DH and I was laughing, crying and hyperventilating. DH had no idea what I was trying to tell him and thought I was having a post partum melt down. I was blabbering on about anal rings and rubber fingers and he thought I was losing my mind.