My Auntie Dot

I've just heard today that my Auntie Dot probably won't make it through the day.

It's bittersweet, because I'm sure she's chosen when she's ready to go (she's just that damn stubborn) but I will miss her when she does.

Auntie Dot taught me my first dirty jokes.

She taught me to play most card games, and how to cheat at them.

She was responsible for most of my early sex education because she had boxes and boxes of smutty cartoon books that I used to sneak copies out of and read under the blankets, giggling at all the jokes I didn't understand and the drawings of nude women. Boobies are hilarious to a six year old.

She taught me how to cook a lot of things, most of them full of fat, sugar and salt, all of them delicious.

She had more gadgets and doodads than anyone else I know, and I have inherited that.

She always had pet birds, with ridiculous names like Wrecker, that would roam the house freely, alternately terrorising people or charming them for tidbits. My favourite was an old galah that would steal cigarette butts out of ashtrays and put them in people's shoes. Most of these birds swore like fishwives. Kind of like Auntie Dot.

When we kids called out "Dottie!" through the house she would always answer "Whattie?"

She had a cat called Fonzie that was just like a ginger version of Horse from the Footrot Flats comics.

She had a vast collection of Footrot Flats comics. A vast collection of comics all together, from the aforementioned smut to Richie Rich and Archie and the Ettamogah Pub.

She liked silly toys that did poos or laid eggs or made fart noises. She loved dirty jokes. A few years ago one of her kids set her up with email and she has bombarded me with filthy jokes ever since. Whenever I see a really puerile dirty joke, I email it to Dottie. Usually if it has a picture of a penis in it, Dottie will love it.

She could feed a good sized township on whatever she could find in her freezer and her rather marvellous pantry. Jesus had nothing on her with his loaves and fishes.

Her door was always open and her phone always ringing. We have been known to sleep three deep on her livingroom floor. With various pets climbing all over us.

She loved kids, loved Christmas and would always join the two together and create the most riotous times.

She always complained about everything, but you knew she secretly loved everything too. Her laugh always sounded filthy, even when she was laughing at something innocent.

I'll miss her, the cranky old bitch.