Me sitting on the bench watching the kids play on our our little trip! I glance up and ponder to myself
“Hmm, I wonder why #3 took her bathsuit off in the park. Oh, no, not here! Are you kidding me! #3 what are you doing?”
#3 says, “pooop, mooommmyy, pooop”
‘ahh, this is why I do not have dogs! Really? I hope I have a garbage bag. I haven’t had to do this since college, when I had my little dog. Aha, the is why I do not have dog! Really? Please, baby, we do not poop on the grass, we go to the potty.”
#3 – “#3, poooop in gasss”
[side note: #3 loves to speak in the third person. She is the only one that has done this. Also, the kids is an amazing squatter when it comes to going potty outside. When I was her age, my dad would have us sit on a log with our butts over the side or make us lean against a try. The later once resulted with me getting redbugs all over my butt and my underwear sapped to my _ss, oh sorry it just kind off rhymed.]
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t feel right, if there wasn’t any crap to my day” (I say this with my hand in the air with defeat)
Adding to my pissy vacation. My children managed to whiz their way through the state of Florida, quit literally. In fact, as we stopped to eat at a Cracker Barrel, my son hoped out of the van to pee on the first tree he could see. Unfortunately, to me it was the one directly in front of the porch about 20 feet away. There was a chorus of chuckling and pointing as I walked up. I looked to discover, OF COURSE MY SON IS SHOWING OFF AGAIN WITH THE DISTANCE HE CAN PROJECT.
Next trip, I am logging all of our pit stops. My husband had a deflecting moment, when my son chose to stand in the van and take aim at a guardrail. To my poor husbands dismay was that he standing outside the van as the pee splash off the guard rail and showering him. See, I need to have that camera ready!