September 26, 2008
Let it be known that in our house, poop is funny. Having two children one tends to suffer quite a bit of it. You may say that on some days we seem to be up to our eyes in it and not really noticing it. Poop. Nothing seems to phase us. So, one fine Saturday morning in the midst of our cleaning and car repairs and children watching and bead making, I came across something in our car port that looked suspiciously like poop. So I ask "Robert, Is this poop on the ground?" His reply, "Yah. It's raccoon poop." ... "Uh, raccoon poop?" I question. "Yes. Raccoon poop." How or why my dear husband would consider or know that a small turd on our property would be from a raccoon and not our 3 year old is beyond me. "But it's green." he notices.... Um, yah? Maybe it's the sheer number of diapers I've changed or the fact that our droopy drawred daughter had just pranced through that made me think otherwise. Raccoon poop. Ok Robert, go to your "happy place" I'll clean up the "raccoon poop".