My uncle has two kids: a boy named George and a girl named Mary.

George was really plump and cute, the same as Mary. They had big cheeks that were red, and frequently got themselves dirty. George was about three years old, and Mary was one year old.

So about a weekend ago, my mom went to visit them. Mary and George were playing with their toys merrily when my mom walked in. George dropped the toy and giggled lamely.

Mary took longer to respond, but George walked over to my mom, almost tripping over a stray toy lying around. After my mom set down her stuff, she gave a children’s book to George.

"Here is a book. Book," my mom enunciated clearly so he could learn the word. It was actually mine, and I was WAY too old to be reading it.

George giggled again at the cover. Mary’s little mouth puckered up as she tried to look at it. She climbed on George’s back and tried to look. George pushed her off and flipped through the book, looking at the pages with interest.

Presently Mary got mad. She was old enough to know that crying usually didn’t do much, so she opened her tiny mouth, and bit her brother’s little toe, which barely fit in her mouth.

George fumed, threw the book down, and went to find his mom and dad.

Mary however didn’t go. She sat down and began reading the book. Smart, she was, diverting George away, because when he realized, it was too late.

After a few minutes, George needed to go to the restroom.

Trying to get potty-trained, George sat down on the big toilet. He didn’t have a small toilet of his own, so he sat on top.

He almost fell into the hole. Naturally, George’s hands stuck out as he held himself up.

After a few seconds it began to be too painful to continue holding himself up, but he couldn’t lift himself out of the toilet hole either. So he began to yell for his parents.

As they rescued him, my mom remarked, "Does he have a special put-on-top toilet seats?"

"No," my aunt answered as he wiped off his wet little denominator, "Mary’s got one though. But if he sat in, he would get stuck. It’s much too small."

Ha! That would hurt, though.

My mom left after an hour, and came back and told me the stories.

And I just had to laugh. Wouldn’t you?