This story never made it out of draft mode, so I cleaned it up and posted it for you guys today. It's worth the click: ~D~ and the flaming sword of justice
Yesterday we had the Mackattack people over. I would identify them as the "eww don't lick that" people, but given that this day was all about poop I wouldn't want anyone to connect those two concepts. We didn't scoop poop before they played, which turned out to be a mistake. Although, come to think of it, that might not have mattered anyway, as D decided to drop trow and plop his own contribution right in the middle of the play area. Poor Mack could not breathe at this point, not from the fumes, but from the hysterical laughter into which the shock of it tossed her. I think what was more disturbing was the fact that doggies like to clean up toddler poo. They've very helpful that way.
Her own lovely dd, age 8.5, stepped into some doggie dirt and didn't realize it. When she tracked it into the kitchen, I asked her to remove her shoes. She did so but missed a bit and got some on her hand. Being an 8 yo girl, she started shaking her hand in disgust. I begged her "no, no, honey! we don't fling poo!" Another incongruous statement, and both Mack and I lost it.
Poop or not, the day wore on and the kids were all covered in grime. It was a nice 48-hour draw the-kids-off festival and now we're all tired.
So tired, in fact, that my toilet-striking toddler has pooped twice this morning on the carpet. I think I liked it better when he was lighting it on fire.