Note: Names have not been used in an attempt to protect the not-so-innocent. Not that they deserve such consideration, but I am trying to limit the amount of couch time they need in the future. Nice of me, isn't it?
So the other day the boys were running around naked, their new favorite pastime, when one of my precious boys yelled, "Look, Mommy!"
Given recent events around here like the farmer's blow fiasco, I cringe when I hear the words, "Look, Mommy!"
My cringe was well warranted as the next words out of the child's mouth were, "I pooped in the playroom."
Yep. Sure enough, there was a poop on the playroom floor.
"CHILD! Why did you poop on the floor? You were just on the potty five minutes ago!"
As I grabbed paper towels and talked with the perpetrator, one of his brothers came over to inspect the scene.
He said, "I can poop, too!"
And before I could even react, he squatted down and pooped right next to his brother's accident.
My eyes bugged out of my head. I couldn't believe he just did that!
"CHILD! What did you just do? Where does the poopy go? It does not belong on the playroom floor!"
The front of my brain was telling me this was not a good thing. The back of my brain was screaming with laughter.
I cleaned the bottoms. I cleaned the floor. I made the perpetrators tell me that poop goes in the potty. Then I shooed them out of the room so I could laugh.
Thank heavens they didn't exchange a high five after they did the deed. That would have put me right over the edge.
© Trippin' Mama 2011 
1 comment:
I would die. DIE. (Of course, that's what I said about having triplets, and look what happened!)
Keep up with me, Ted, and our Fab Four at four-by-two.blogspot.com.
Post a Comment