Is that poop or chocolate? Poop or Chocolate?!?!

Oh. It was poop.



I hate to sound like a one trick pony (actually, I'd love to sound like a one trick pony. And it's one of my favorite sayings), but I've got another poop story. Friday, I took Tori, Kayli, and Jaxon to the pool since I had the day off. We had some fun in the sun; stayed out there for about two and a half hours; good times were had by all. When we got home, I ran into our next door neighbor, Laura, in the front yard. While we were chit-chatting, Jaxon walked next door to go play with his friend/girlfriend, Ashley. (We joke with Ashley's parents all the time about Jax and Ashley getting married. I know that the thought of having us as in-laws completely freaks them out. It's hilarious.)



So I followed him over there to talk to Ashley's dad, Ryan. By the time I got in there, Jaxon and Ashley were in their playroom, playing with toys, sharing, being nice to each other; just playing really well together. We just got back from the pool and hadn't eaten yet, so I wanted to take Jax home, but I felt bad taking him from his girlfriend. Ryan told me to just leave Jax there, and he was going to make them mac and cheese. So I think, 'Sure. Sounds good to me. Jax gets to play, I get to go eat in peace, it's a win-win.' (If only it were a win-win-win.......just keep reading) But as I was leaving, I remembered that Jax didn't have a diaper on since we had been out by the pool. Let me just put a diaper on him real quick. Famous last words. I pick him up, lay him on Ryan's couch, start to pull his swimsuit off, and that's when I smell something. Uh-Oh. I panic and pick Jax up, and ohhhhhh crap. There's dookie everywhere. It's on the couch, on my hands, all the way up Jaxon's back, on the ceiling...okay, maybe not on the ceiling, but you get the idea.



So I hurry up and clean up the couch first, while still holding Jaxon, which causes me to get even more poop all up and down my arms. And when it comes to getting poop off of a couch, I'm about as useful as Michael Jackson at a Black Panther rally. (Too soon for the MJ jokes? Too easy? Should I have gone with a KKK rally? Maybe a 'How to Spend Your Money Wisely' seminar? How bout a Boy Scout camping trip? Or Maybe a really close race where someone 'wins by a nose'?? Okay, I'm reaching. Screw it.) Anyway, I ran out of there as fast as I possibly could. I mean seriously. I ran out of there looking like I stole a chocolate baby. And don't get confused. I don't mean chocolate baby as in Madonna adoption waiting list baby, I mean like 100% milk chocolate, 100 degree heat melting baby. Just clarifying. So I go hose him down and throw him straight in the bath.

You'll roll around in poop, but bubbles are icky? Really?

And now I've got to wait thirty years to poop in his house, AND figure out a way to poop in his neighbor's house. It'll be tough, but I'm pretty sure I can handle it though.