18 June 2009

Momy, Mommy!

I think I may have mentioned before about the life cycle of poop in this house. I mean, I do have a potty-trained 3 year old (thank heavens!), a constantly full diaper-totting 2 year old, a mammoth 5 year old (good gracious, Turbo is really 5?) lab AND an ever growing 1 year old great Dane. Yes, there is a lot of poop that filters thru this house and particularly thru my hands. It's nasty and yucky and no one really wants to deal with it, let alone talk about it, but this is my life and I feel compelled to share the gory details with you. (Come on, you know that you too investigate your child's poo. It's just amazing how bad it really smells and how the kaleidoscope of colors changes from every angle and oh! the corn that doesn't get digested...)

So I deal with poop on an hourly basis. This act, however, did not prepare me for what happened yesterday.

I took the boys outside to play around 9 am. Why so early? Because it's so obnoxiously hot at 12 pm that we get sunburned just being inside our house. It's really getting out of hand. So we go out early and then try and not burn the house down in the afternoons.

So we're outside, the boys are running around and doing boy things, the dogs are playing the weird "boy-girl dog" dance (Turbo is fixed so there are NOT going to be any puppies in our house) and I am picking up, well, dog poop. I'm telling you, hourly. I finish up with my duty and go to grab the trash can to dump it's contents along with my steaming fresh dog bowel clean up bag into the dumpster. [We have a dumpster behind our house. Yet another example to the old-ness of our house. We don't have the conventional Tues/Fri curb-side garbage pick-up that most of the city does. While this is great for taking our trash out whenever we feel like it, not worrying about the trash that's piled high and rotting since we (and I say we because it was always my fault that the trash didn't get taken to the curb when we lived on base. Apparently it was too hard for someone else to remember to take the trash all 10 steps to the curb when that someone was leaving for work and had to walk around the poopy diaper laden refuse, so the task befell on me. And in order to fulfill this task I would have to remember to put it out the night before as the handy-dandy waste management team would come to collect our offerings at 6:30 am.) forgot to take it out and therefore missed a pick-up. It's not so great when the all four dumpsters in the alley behind our street are filled with limbs and mulch and other gardening left-overs and so the trash that is stinking up my garage can't fit. Ahem.] I do this too, on a very regular basis.

Off I go; 1 minute later as I am walking up thru the back of the fence I hear, "Mommy, Mommy!"

Now this was not a scared mommy, or a Tucker just bit me mommy but a very enthusiastic Mommy!

"I'm coming Tyson!"

I open the gate and am met by my beautiful three year old smiling ear-to-ear. (I now know what this particular smile means)

"Mommy, mommy! I went poopy!"

"You went poopy?"

"Yes, mommy! I went poopy! All by myself!"

"You went poopy?? In your big boy underwear?"

"No mommy. I went poopy like Turbo!"

"Like Turbo?"

"Mommy, look!! I went poopy like Turbo in the grass!!"

And he certainly did. Just like Turbo, in the grass.

3 comments:

Amy said...

LOL!!! SO funny! Have I mentioned how happy I am that I have girls....VERY girly girl girls.

Aubrey said...

Oh my goodness. This story makes me thankful I have a girl. I love your story telling. I wish I could write my life with the humor you do! I look forward to your stories every day.

Jennifer W said...

EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! My girl pooped in the tub a few days ago, for the first time. It was funny but I hope it does not happen again soon. Again, ewwww! You totally have boys! :)