“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”Gilda Radner

Sunday, December 4, 2011

It was DADDY!

We put our Christmas tree up the day before Thanksgiving this year, but ran out of ornament hooks.  I finally got some, and we decided to finish decorating our tree tonight.

Halfway through, I spied something odd on the couch.  

"Is that...an apple seed?" I asked, puzzled.  

Sound parenting advice:


It squished between my fingers instantly and smelled very, very bad.

"NOAH!" I yelled.  I'd like to say I was patient and gentle, but I'm pretty much at the end of my POOP rope.

"WHA-AT?" he sing-songed back.

"Why is there POOP ON MY COUCH?"

"It was DADDY!" he shouted, and ran the other way.

My poor husband.  He is usually the smelliest one of us, but he just didn't deserve that.

1 comment:

  1. Gross. Apparently that's just part of living with boys, because it has definitely happened in our house, too.