My Luck.

It's a good thing these devils are so cute.

I had a parenting experience the other day that is beyond anything I have experienced before. As you know, I have a pretty good back injury right now, and laundry is not on my list of easy things to do. I can't bend without significant pain, and lifting heavy laundry baskets is out of the question. I thought I'd give the hubs a break and do some small loads, loads I could actually carry down the steps.

I went to corral the clothing into seperate piles, carefully limiting my bending. I noticed a stray pair of kiddie underpants beside the basket, and while scooping them up I found a whole turd. A whole chunk of poo inside the underpants.

Fabulous.

A bit of backstory to make my house seem like less of the scuzzbucket palace you're all imagining now: The day before I found the turd in the underpants Hunter had a pretty messy experience wiping in the bathroom. He went past me with no pants or underwear on, sneaking upstairs. I stopped him in his tracks, and he quietly explained he did not make to the toilet. Okay, fair enough. He adds, with a big smile and gesture, "And I got poo on my hands!"

Oh jeez!

"Stop right there, Hunter! Hands in the air!" Pause. He shyly moves his hands to his facial region. "No!!!!! Don't put your hands in your mouth!!!"

Remembering the back-pain agony of the pee-cleaning bath I had given just 24 hours before this, I add, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, Hunter needs your help!"

Dad swoops in like the super-hero man he is, and cleans up Hunter, stearnly reminds little H needs to get to the bathroom quicker, and stops to show me the poop Hunter got all over his jeans as he takes them to the laundry room to try and salvage.

There was a pair of underpants with pee on them in the jeans, so dad never thought twice about it. The mystery remains, how did Hunter soil two pairs of underwear so quickly? And why would he throw a whole turd in the laundry basket?

Moments ago Hunter was recording his own voice into the LeapFrog refridgerator toy saying, "I have a woo-woo!"

This is what I taught him the women's anatomy is called. At our house, men have "weiners," (thanks Theo), and women have "woo-woo's." I figure that's better than all the other things you could call it. As a kid I was taught my vagina was a "tushie," and later was confused beyond all expectations when I lerned the rest of the world referred to the "tushie" as your ass.

I won't repeat the rest of the things dad's telling him to say into the repeating recorder toy.

Currently, he is ripping up a coloring picture of Jesus, and stuffing the pieces down the heater. The symbolism is accurate.
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Also, the cats are peaved today, as their nesting spot as come down. Goodbye Christmas tree!!

Here are some shots of School Bus, the cat, sleepin' and playin' in the tree.

Update on the Schmoopy cat. her tail seems to have reached record proportions. Here, I swear it is bigger than her body. Like a giant feather duster. So much love for this fuzzball!!!!

Happy weekend to you all!