She smells like poop. Like on her face.

                The morning feels like its gone on forever, but in actuality it is not yet 9 am.  The twins are freshly attached to their headphones, cyber school in session.  Owen and Micah are on a “book making binge”, folded construction paper and crayons everywhere.  Across two rooms Flynn begins to speak to me in a volume that says “I have headphones blarring in my ears while I talk to you.”  Joy the Cat has just prowled thru the school room before sprawling out on a wool rug in a sun beam near the front door.  Flynn alerts me, “Mom, when can we give Joy a bath again?  She smells like poop.  Like on her face.” Knowing that shes had a few late nights this week, bustin free and makin trouble, gettin filthy in the hood…I know that what Flynn says is most likely the truth.  Seated in front of and diagonal to Flynn, and also hooked into the same vein of information delivery via audio/video feed, twin sister Iris turns her head toward the conversation.  She looks to be a mixture of tired and dispondant.  With very little opposition in her voice she adds to the dialogue, “I took a bath a couple days ago…” Flynn and I look at each other like we both know we have the best news to share with someone.  Thru a really large smile I was delighted to inform Iris that we were, in fact, talking about Joy the Cat…and not “the only girl”, “the family peanut”, “the sweet little lady that fills our days with sunshine and rainbows”.  “No, Iris…your face does not smell like poop.  We were talking about Joy the Cat.”  A relieved smile creeped across her face as the three of us errupted in uncontainable laughter.  She is a true sister to 3 brothers.  Her complete lack of shock when perhaps overhearing her brother say that “her face smells like poop”, proves her familial position.  More power to girls growing up surrounded by boys.