I say, “You a kind little girl?”
She just look at me. She two years old. She don’t know what she is yet.
I say, “You a kind girl,” and she nod, repeat it back to me. But before I can do another one, she get up and chase that poor dog around the yard and laugh and that’s when I get to wondering, what would happen if I told her she something good, ever day?
She turn from the birdbath and smile and holler, “Hi, Aibee. I love you, Aibee,” and I feel a tickly feeling, soft like the flap a butterfly wings, watching her play out there. The way I used to feel watching Treelore. And that makes me kind a sad, memoring.
After while, Mae Mobley come over and press her cheek up to mine and just hold it there, like she know I be hurting. I hold her tight, whisper, “You a smart girl. You a kind girl, Mae Mobley. You hear me?” And I keep saying it till she repeat it back to me.
The next few weeks is real important for Mae Mobley. You think on it, you probably don’t remember the first time you went to the bathroom in the toilet bowl stead of a diaper. Probably don’t give no credit to who taught you, neither. Never had a single baby I raise come up to me and say, Aibileen, why I sure do thank you for showing me how to go in the pot.
It’s a tricky thing. You try and get a baby to go in the toilet before its time, it’ll make em crazy. They can’t get the hang of it[68] and get to thinking low a theyselves. Baby Girl, though, I know she ready. And she know she ready. But, Law, if she ain’t running my fool legs off. I set her on her wooden baby seat so her little hiney don’t fall in and soon as I turn my back, she off that pot running.
“You got to go, Mae Mobley?”
“No.”
“You drunk up two glasses a grape juice, I know you got to go.”
“Nooo.”
“I give you a cookie if you go for me.”
We look at each other awhile. She start eyeing the door. I don’t hear nothing happening in the bowl. Usually, I can get them going after about two weeks. But that’s if I got they mamas helping me. Little boys got to see they daddy doing it standing-up style, little girls got to see they mama setting down. Miss Leefolt won’t let that girl come near her when she going, and that’s the trouble.
“Go just a little for me, Baby Girl.”
She stick her lip out, shake her head.
Miss Leefolt gone to get her hair done, else I ask her again will she set the example even though that woman’s already said no five times. Last time Miss Leefolt say no, I was fixing to tell her how many kids I raised in my lifetime and ask her what number she on, but I ended up saying alright like I always do.
“I give you two cookies,” I say even though her mama always getting on me about making her fat.
Mae Mobley, she shake her head and say, “You go.[69]”
Now, I ain’t saying I ain’t heard this before, but usually I can get around it. I know, though, she got to see how it’s done fore she gone get to business. I say, “I don’t got to go.”
We look at each other. She point again and say, “You go.” Then she get to crying and fidgeting cause that seat making a little indent on her behind and I know what I’m on have to do. I just don’t know how to go about it. Should I take her out to the garage to mine or go here in this bathroom? What if Miss Leefolt come home and I’m setting up on this toilet? She have a fit.
I put her diaper back on and we go out to the garage. Rain make it smell a little swampy. Even with the light on it’s dark, and they ain’t no fancy wallpaper like inside the house. Fact, they really ain’t no proper walls at all, just plyboard hammered together. I wonder if she gone be scared.
“Alright, Baby Girl, here tis. Aibileen’s bathroom.”
She stick her head in and her mouth make the shape of a Cheerio. She say, “Oooooo.”
I take down my underthings and I tee-tee real fast, use the paper, and get it all back on before she can really see anything. Then I flush.
“And that’s how you go in the toilet,” I say.
Well, don’t she look surprise. Got her mouth hanging open like she done seen a miracle. I step out and fore I know it, she got her diaper off and that little monkey done climbed on that toilet, holding herself up so she don’t fall in, going tee-tee for herself.
“Mae Mobley! You going! That’s real good!” She smile and I catches her fore she dip down in it. We run back inside and she get her two cookies.
Later on, I get her on her pot and she go for me again. That’s the hardest part, those first couple a times. By the end a the day, I feel like I really done something. She getting to be a pretty good talker and you can guess what the new word a the day is.
“What Baby Girl do today?”
She say, “Tee-tee.”
“What they gone put in the history books next to this day?”
She say, “Tee-tee.”
I say, “What Miss Hilly smell like?”
She say, “Tee-tee.”
But I get onto myself. It wasn’t Christian, plus I’m afraid she repeat it.
Late that afternoon, Miss Leefolt come home with her hair all teased up. She got a permanent and she smell like pneumonia.
“Guess what Mae Mobley done today?” I say. “Went to the bathroom in the toilet bowl.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She give her girl a hug, something I don’t see enough of. I know she mean it, too, cause Miss Leefolt do not like changing diapers.
I say, “You got to make sure she go in the pot from now on. It’s real confusing for her if you don’t.”
Miss Leefolt smile, say, “Alright.”
“Let’s see if she do it one more time fore I go home.” We go in the bathroom. I get her diapers off and put her up on that toilet. But Baby Girl, she shaking her head.
“Come on, Mae Mobley, can’t you go in the pot for your mama?”
“Noooo.”
Finally I put her back down on her feet. “That’s alright, you did real good today.”
But Miss Leefolt, she got her lips sticking out and she hmphing and frowning down at her. Before I can get her diaper on again, Baby Girl run off fast as she can. Nekkid little white baby running through the house. She in the kitchen. She got the back door open, she in the garage, trying to reach the knob to my bathroom. We run after her and Miss Leefolt pointing her finger. Her voice go about ten pitches too high. “This is not your bathroom!”
Baby Girl wagging her head. “My bafroom!”
Miss Leefolt snatch her up, give her a pop on the leg.
“Miss Leefolt, she don’t know what she do —”
“Get back in the house, Aibileen!”
I hate it, but I go in the kitchen. I stand in the middle, leave the door open behind me.
“I did not raise you to use the colored bathroom!” I hear her hiss-whispering, thinking I can’t hear, and I think, Lady, you didn’t raise your child at all.
“This is dirty out here, Mae Mobley. You’ll catch diseases! No no no!” And I hear her pop her again and again on her bare legs.
After a second, Miss Leefolt potato-sack her inside. There ain’t nothing I can do but watch it happen. My heart feel like it’s squeezing up into my throat-pipe. Miss Leefolt drop Mae Mobley in front a the tee-vee and she march to her bedroom and slam the door. I go give Baby