The One Where There Is Too Much Talk About Poop

You may recall that my kids think I'm SuperMom.

They still do, though I have repeatedly proven I am sooo not.

Case in point:
From the back seat of the van on a recent expedition to town, Christopher chimes,
"Moommmm? What's that smell?"
I am always intrigued by that question. As if I know what their little noses are smelling!

"I don't know, Bipper. What do you think?" I inquire.

Andrew relates the following, "Mom, I think Christopher has poop on his cowboy boot."

I reply, "Actually, I don't think so, honey. I think he stepped in a marshmallow the other night when we were roasting them outside, and when he walked on the grass the sticky marshmallow picked up all kinds of grass and stuff from the lawn."

He says, "No, Mom. I think it's poop."

I say, "No honey, I looked at it just the other day. It's marshmallow."
Apparently even I think I'm SuperMom. As if I could confidently say that just because Bipper's boots were "poop-free" a few days ago that they would most certainly still be that way days later.
On a farm.
With two dogs.
Two big dogs.
And a bunch of cats.
And did I mention we live on a farm?

It was at this point that Isaiah leaned back to investigate.
"Ohhhhh. Mom--it's poop. And it stinks! I think it's dog poop."

I burst into gales of laughter. I found this to be incredibly funny. Me with my seven kids cruisin' in our oil-sucking, too-small-for-us mini-van--on a trip to town for groceries with poop on our footwear. Well, Christopher's footwear that is.

I could have gotten upset--but I chose instead to look at the humorous side of life on a farm with all these kids and animals.

I pulled over into an approach and Nathaniel--bless his heart--took the offensive boot and scraped it off in the grass and finished the job with his pocket knife. What a good big brother--and good son!

Just another day in my life...