Today was bar-ruti-ful! Sunny, blue skies, light breeze, 70’s…couldn’t ask for better Illinois weather. Perfect day to start putting in the garden. So we did. A little. Mostly we just sat back and enjoyed the day. Kids were actually playing together and not fighting to the death. At one point, as I was trying to sit back and get a little sun on my fish belly white legs – mmmm, sounds yummy, but truly is an accurate description – my two youngest start screaming, “Oooo, bug, mommy, big, brown bug! Ooooo, you have to come see it, oooooo!” They are hyper, jumping around whatever it is in the yard. So, I get up, telling them that it had better not be one of those stupid cicadas or I’m going to be mad. As I’m walking over, I think to myself “Eeew, that looks to be about the spot the dog was taking a crap earlier. Jeez, what did she eat? She better not be sick…” Sure enough, I get there and it is poop. Just ordinary brown poop. Fresh poop, but poop just the same. Apparently my children have never seen poop so fresh and thought it was some kind of strange insect or something. Not having a shovel and not wanting to go get the shed key and get one, I grabbed a stick and stuck it in the ground, next to the pile as a marker. I even hung a leaf from it to make it more visible, like a little tree. M said, “What’re you doing that for?” as B tried to pull it from the ground. I, in my most intelligent mommy voice, said that it was there to show them where the poop was and that they should go around it. Feeling smart, I thought it was a perfect explanation. Until B looks at me, with such an innocent grin, and begins to run around the poop/poop tree. Like it was a new game. Of course M joins in. So here I have two lunatics, giggling and giddy, running in a tight circle around a pile of poop. I’m laughing so hard I almost peed my pants – not an exaggeration – trying to explain to them that I meant to avoid the spot, to go around it, not walk/run/play around it. For the rest of the time, they mostly avoided the area, screaming POOP whenever either one of them would get within ten feet of the poop tree. Didn’t I tell you my kids were smart
asses as whips?
I would’ve included a picture of said poop, but the fun ended when Daddy came out and upon discovering my brilliant solution to the problem actually got the shovel and had big brother scoop it up and deposit it in the ditch. Yeah…ok…if you want to do it the easy way.