Oh, but I was so wrong.
Libby has this little elephant she calls "Daddy Ewephant", and it is her constant companion. Daddy Ewephant is about 4 inches high, 6 inches long, made of hard rubber, and goes in everything. Cereal on the floor? Daddy Ewephant stomps it to powder. Cup of milk on the table? Daddy Ewephant gets turned upside-down in the cup for a drink. Bowl of rice? You guessed it, Daddy Ewephant takes a rice bath.
Today, Libby "helped" me change one of Jaina's poopie diapers. I folded it up, taped it closed with the tabs, and handed it to Libby to put in the trash. "Thanks a lot! You're my big helper!" I said. 10 minutes later, Libby hands me Daddy Ewephant, saying "is mess. Shower!" I looked closely at Daddy Ewephant to see what he had been stomping in and saw that his feet were plastered with poop. I thought at first that Libby had been in the cat box, but the gate at the end of the hall was locked, so she couldn't have gotten back there. I gingerly carried Daddy Ewephant to the kitchen and there was Jaina's old diaper, open on the floor. Fortunately, Jaina's first poop of the day was one small pebble-sized offering. Unfortunately, even a little poop makes a big mess when an Elephant steps in it.
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2 comments:
Gotta love a fascination with poop. :)
Okay so, I know when I am blue the best therapy is your blog! You have such a way of putting things that just makes me smile! (and usually laugh) I stand by my former advice that you should write a book, or 2, or more- I would be the first in line to read it..."what should you write about?" you ask? Well, it wouldn't even matter- you could write about anything and it would still be interesting and fun to read!
-- I can just picture the elephant stomp stomp stomping through the poop...
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