Look at My Butt

I peered at the bright computer screen. Hmm.  I cocked my head to the side as I studied the details of my report. Finally, I ripped my gaze from my work and glanced toward the doorway. And did a double-take.

“AHHHHHHH!” I clamped my hand over my mouth; my chest struggled to breath. I stared into my brother’s face, mere inches from my own. “What are you d o i n g?” I gasped out. It felt exactly like a reenactment of Lydia’s mom presenting her sculpture of Beetlejuice to her husband in the den.

“Can you check me for Pin Worms?” He angled his butt toward me. 

“Hell no!”

“Come on.  It has to be at night.  Just use the flashlight on your phone.”

I couldn’t suppress my laughter any longer. “No, I’m not looking at your butt hole!” I stationed my head carefully away from him, in case he tried to pull his pants down.  I wasn’t certain of his boundaries.

“It will just take a few seconds. I’m worried about Pin Worms.” His voice was smooth and patient in his attempt to persuade me.

“NO.”

“Come on.  A quick look.”

“Go ask mom to look at your butt hole!”

“No, I can’t wake her up to look at my butt.” He paused thoughtfully. “Would it help if I just laid down on my side?”

I huffed, “No! Stop, I’m never in my life going to look at your butt hole.”

“But, I shaved it.  There’s no hair.”

I closed my eyes to regain composure. I was grinning, but truly terrified. “Is your butt itchy?”

He gave me an exasperated look.  “I don’t KNOW. Ever since you told me there’s Pin Worms going around, I feel like my butt is itchy.”

Unavoidable giggles escaped me.  Who doesn’t laugh at an itchy butt? “Give it up, I’m not looking at the folds of your butt hole. Ever.”

He squinted at me with irritation as he finally walked away. I swear I will die if he ever pulls his cheeks apart for me to investigate. Really.

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