Humor | Poetry | Family

My Stinky Daughter

Another true story about my angel

I’ve had complaints at home about the amount of stories about my partner and the lack of stories about my daughter.

I wrote this one for her yesterday.

My daughter is a princess, clever, cute, and funny, Over twenty years ago, I grew her in my tummy.

I’ve called her lots of nicknames, like Sausage, Floss, and Fairy. She doesn’t like it, not one bit. She gets all cross and scary.

“Don’t call me that,” she cries, annoyed, “you know I’ve got a name. You’re infantilizing me again. I think I know your game.”

The only name she’ll answer to isn’t what you thinky. Since she was a tiny girl, I’ve always called her Stinky.

When she was a baby and pooped and wasn’t happy, I called her little Stinky Bum and changed her crappy nappy.

“Dinners ready, Stinky,” every day I call. Any other name she shuns, it makes no sense at all.