There’s poop under my front porch, and it’s not from an animal, folks.
I know; it’s tacky to write a mommy blog and be all Braggity McBragpants about my kids, but there’s a season for everything, and it’s time to brag.
There’s poop under my front porch, and more than one of my kids manufactured it and put it there.
I’m sure that’s so because I have a witness. Or a tattler. It depends on how you look at it, really. I prefer to call them spies and treat them like essential members of my staff, paying them off in secret for getting me the dirt. Look. I’m not proud of it; I just honestly don’t think I can parent this many kids without a well-run network of informants. Don’t judge.
“MOM!” Aden said, running into the kitchen after playing outside. “Cai and Cael POOPED under the front porch.”
I asked my 5-year-old boys to confirm.
“So. Boys. Tell me. Did you poop under the front porch?”
“YES!” Cai said enthusiastically.
Ah ha! A witness and a confession.
“I fink I don’t want to say,” Cael said suspiciously.
Make that a witness, a confession, and a kid who knows his rights. That’s OK; I’ve done more with less.
I asked Cai to explain. “Explain,” I said. “Explain, if you please, why it made sense to you to take a dump under the front porch.”
Cai heard no sarcasm in my voice since he suffers from acute sarcasm deafness, so he looked at me with sparkles in his eyes and yelled, “DUNGEON!” while Cael tried in vain to shush him.
Of course. Should’ve known.
My boys were playing Dungeon, and not just Any Dungeon. No no; my babies were playing Historically Accurate Dungeon, which is the kind of Dungeon where one lounges around in one’s own waste, and which I think we can all agree is the Most Superior of all the Dungeons to play. I mean, think of the less creative kids out there playing Clean Dungeon. It’s sad really.
I think it’s safe to assume at this point that my boys are essentially guaranteed full-ride history scholarships to our local university. Which, given the $82.76 in their college saving funds, is a real relief.
Also, that poop under my front porch? It’s the perfect addition for fall decorating, friends! Now, instead of decorating with just the sun, moon and flatulence, we can add a wholly realistic Dungeon for Halloween.
Parenting, you guys. It’s all a matter of perspective.
P.S. Thank you for all your sage advice on dealing with the poop situation. And, um, sorry I’m such a bad advice-taker.