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Oh, Poop

It's been quite a week. I had the opportunity to spend the night with my youngest daughter, her husband, and their 3-- under 4. She made Christmas goodies and I organized cabinets. That night I had a new "teeth brushing" experience. Their bathroom lighting was a little dim, so was my sight- absent my glasses. The tube looked like Crest, felt like Crest, squeezed like Crest but it sure didn't taste like Crest. Boudreaux's Butt Paste just doesn't have that same fresh minty flavor.
After leaving their place, Brad and I had the opportunity to take 4 of the other 6 (3 under 4 and a 9 year old) Christmas lightseeing. Prior to the light viewing, begging resulted in a stop at the Golden Arches. The playground was just as you'd expect...packed with hoards of gleeful kids playing in a less than sanitary environment while parents watch on as their little ones perform grotesque antics.
After witnessing a boy of 5 or 6 laying face down licking the carpet I questioned our sanity in bringing them their during flu season. Nearly an hour into having more fun than anyone should be allowed, it dawned on me that I was missing a girl. I called her name, no answer.
The other 3 were alerted to scour the tubes. Nothing. Just as I was going in to search myself, the blond haired beauty appeared from behind the shoe stand. An angelic demure smile on her face. As I approached her the smell hit me. Brad motioned something to me."What?" I mouthed. He motioned again. As I picked her up, I realized why startled glances were being shared. I can only say it ended with a trip to the dollar store to get a new set of clothes.
After the dollar store stop we headed to the lights. The excitement was more than they could bear but soon dwindled as the lighting disappeared after entering the park. The entrance was beautifully lit but that's where it ended. The 80 mile round trip to view a few lights at the entrance of what used to be a lighting extravaganza, and the disappearance of the rest, was a little disappointing and hard to explain to two 4 four year olds---but nothing that ice cream wouldn't fix. The 40 mile trip home was quiet except for an occasional ice cream slurp.
The rest of the week resulted in more busy bodies spilling, pooping, dropping, breaking, crying, burping, laughing, stuttering, questioning, hugging, spilling, dropping, crying, pooping.............
Yea, it's been quite a week...and I wouldn't trade it with anyone, poop and all.

Merry Christmas
Andy
chainranchlady.com

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