On the good side, Brielle went poo in the potty. yay!
Now the down and dirty…we were going to some yard sales in a nice subdivision, you know, new construction, expensive cars, professional landscaping. We had just left a garage sale, when Aviana said she had to go potty. Now being the country girl she is, she has no problem going in the grass. I opened up the van door to block her from one direction, and she was blocked by some bushes in the other direction. Pretty innocuous, right?
I’m holding her so she doesn’t accidentally peepee on her legs, and she is taking for. ev. er. I ask her, “Aren’t you done yet?”
“No”, she grunts, “I have to poo!”
Alarm bells start flashing in my head and I break out into a cold sweat. What the heck? In our area you have follow your dog around with a plastic baggie and pick up the canine excrement. I’m not sure what the law says about little girls, but it’s probably not a good idea to let your child poo in what is, technically, someone’s yard.
I did what any loving and crazy mother would do. I wiped her with a wipe, put the whole mess –literally– in a ziplock, and put it in the van. If people can do it with their golden retrievers, surely I can do it for my dear daughter. I acted wonderfully nonchalant about the whole thing.
I rode home with a poo baggie on the floor of my van. I kept the window down the whole way, sure I was being followed by phantom stinkiness.
I arrived home to find one of the hired men was spreading manure, (they have to gather up the manure from the cattle yards and spread it on the fields) which smelled way worse. I threw the evidence on the burn pile and no one was the wiser.
And my poo story could have remained my little secret, until I decided to share it with you, my faithful readers, who probably will never come back. Or maybe it will take more than a little poo to drive you away.
If you decide the Farm Fresh life is a little too “fresh”, I totally understand. Thanks for the ride up ’til now, it’s been fun!