Poop is Fun

Dog poop: it is stinky, it is brown, it is dirty, it is germ-filled, and apparently it is also...
FUN!

My husband and I go on "poop patrol" often, trying to rid our backyard of doggy poops. I can look out of the window in our computer room and see our entire backyard and can tell how well a job we have been doing. My husband will probably read this and think that I am making up lies, since he thinks that he is the only one that uses our pooper scooper. Not true. I am quite active with the scooper when he is absent from home on military duty. I feel it's more a husbandly job. :) But I do it too- just not happily.

Well, back to the fun. Yesterday, my husband had just finished scooping poops in the backyard when he ran off to a local hardware store. My two boys were very happily playing in the backyard on their play gym, shoveling sand and burying their "men". All seemed well as I watched them from the window in between peeling potatoes for dinner. About two minutes passed and their was a frantic knock on the back glass door. I glance over and see Nick waving me over. I quickly wipe my hands and walk to the window to see what was going on.

There is see Jacob holding a man. I look at Jacob's man, who as I get closer seems to have poop on his feet. Just then, the aroma begins to hit my nose.

"Oh no! Jacob...No Honey. Do not put your man in poop!"

I look around panning the yard for the pile of poop that must have been overlooked by my husband, as I grab the man from Jacob. Then, I see that Jacob has poop also on his hands and has smeared it onto the bottom of the slide. I am trying not to gag as the stench is building.

"Oh Gross! Jacob......Rrrgghh! Yuck! We don't play in the poop!"

Jacob begins to cry and cry and cry, louder and louder like I have taken away his most precious possession. It's not like I took away his firetruck or his tow truck or his semi-truck.....
I took away the poop!

I walked Jacob in the house as he was crying, snot running down his face with brown stinky remnants on his hands and under his fingernails as evidence of his actions. I put him on the step stool, helping him wash his hands with at least twenty pumps of hand soap for each hand. I wiped his face, again, reemphasized that poop is yucky, then sent him on his happy way again. Of course, then, I needed to thoroughly disinfect my hands before I could resume making dinner. Gross. I couldn't help getting my hands covered in poop too while I was trying to help Jacob.

Ah! Aren't children a blast?!

Wait....the poop: where did it come from if my husband had just cleared the yard? Well, I did some heavy duty investigating and discovered the culprit...
our dog, Rhett lying outside happily watching the boys play. It was a new poop.

In the back of my mind, I thought, poor dog, he has become a forth-class citizen since the children were born, and now he can't even poop without it becoming a fiasco!