Awhile back we held a Hole in Your Butt Consciousness Raising Session here at The House of Joy.
Through that effort we firmly established that everyone has a hole in their butt and that the hole in The Mayor's butt is named Dana.
Dana has proved to be an endless source of joy.
Last night as we were falling asleep I started to giggle.
"What are you thinking about?" K asked.
"Oh, I was just thinking about Dana! Ha ha ha!!"
Then K started to giggle too.
"What are YOU thinking about?" I returned.
"I'm thinking that Dana's DIRTY! She's been a dirty girl lately! Ha ha ha."
Then we were both laughing.
Dana has a problem.
During the day Dana isn't... um... she isn't getting the attention she needs.
She's doing her job, but no one is... I don't know... appreciating her efforts in return.
What is the delicate way to ask the already overworked and underpaid daycare providers to really get in there... to dig in?
my monogrammed stationary, a lovely greeting card, a piece of notebook paper, the back of the local sushi take-out menu, I write:
Dear Fabulous Daycare Provider,
I am so grateful for the quality of care you bring to your work and specifically the loving and gentle way you care for The Mayor.
I do have a teensy, weensy favor to ask you.
We've noticed that The Mayor routinely suffers from unnecessary FLANUS.
Could you please be mindful to give the child's bottom a vigorous wiping?
Thanks so much! (You da bomb!)