My defining moment this week: poop happens.
Seriously, the kids' midterm grades were wonderful (go, James and Kate!), there's a new marriage in the family (congratulations, Steve and Jennifer!), the little kids at work are starting to follow the routine (and the big kids make recess duty outdoors a fun hour!), the hubby turned __ on his birthday (Happy Birthday!), and my defining moment involves poop. Good grief. What a warped brain I have.
So, we're sitting in Chuck E. Cheese's, celebrating the all A's and the A's & B's on the midterm grades, and Rick and I both notice a little kid standing close to our table by himself. He appears to be staring intently at a video game being played by some older kids. He looks to be about 3 years old, so it doesn't seem unusual that he'd be fascinated and satisfied to simply watch a game being played.
Boy, that kid sure had an intent look on his face.
And, then, all of a sudden, with a casual shake of the leg and unloading of the pants, he was gone, game obviously forgotten. Yep. He pooped in his baggy jeans, the ones that obviously were not concealing a diaper or big boy underwear, shook the turds down his leg, and walked away.
Tell me he hadn't done that before... he was too nonchalant. Now, I still don't know what the message is in this story, but my brain keeps telling me there has to be one. When I figure it out, I'll let you know.
Yeah. Shook that leg just like he knew exactly how to get rid of his smelly little problem, and walked away.