Who’s poop is it?
Yesterday Henry called out from the play room, “POOP!” He said it wasn’t his, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s not above lying. So, we had to decipher was it human poop or dog poop. There’s been a rash of poops on the floor lately – a most disturbing trend that we can’t seem to stop. The shape, size and temperature of this dung led us to believe that Henry was, in fact, telling the truth. He usually likes to do it in his pants anyway. What a relief, right? When someone says to me, “Cherish every moment” I just want to snap back at them, “Not EVERY
moment.” AmIright? I mean, stepping on poop in your bare feet is a moment that I’d sooner forget than hold on to fondly. Seriously, people who say that must have had a nanny.