Tooshy

To the small child, feces and urine done in the diaper are warm and moist also. “No toilet!” protests a verbal two-year-old. “Why, darling?” “No, no, Mommy. It makes my tooshy too cold.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to go traipsing down there and get my tooshy shot off.”

When Mr. Leiter falls he also makes a joke about hurting his “tooshy.”

‘Eyes in her toochus, this one,’ Gus said admiringly. […] George laughed as she followed Gus and reached out to pinch his own bottom hard. ‘Since when did you learn to speak American? This is your tooshy, not your however you said it.’

You’re going to get a spanking for that one. Your tooshy will be sore.

When I sat down I discovered what the mats were for. They were much cooler on my tooshy than the hot lumber.

Fake snow covered the counter by the register and a four-foot dancing Santa wiggled his tooshy next to the front door.

Frank had to give me a shot of progesterone every night in the tooshy and if I did get pregnant, every night for three months – yikes!

Just as I had accepted my seemingly inevitable demise, a pair of arms wrapped around me, catching me right before my tooshy met the icy concrete.