Yes, yes, you read it right. I know, it's not a tasteful subject, but, well, I'm afraid I'm not known for being a tasteful gal. Anyways...
Supergirl comes up and holds something out to me in the kitchen as I am cooking dinner tonight. Ack! Fresh cat poop! All squished between her fat little fingers. Where, oh where did it come from? Well, we do have cats, so in theory it could have come from anywhere, which concerns me somewhat. Is there more out there, lurking, just waiting to be picked up and played with? But I digress. And why put down this little mishap for posterity, anyway? Well, someday, when she's 15 and has deemed me the worst mom ever, I will indignantly retort, "I am not! And I have proof!" And I will dredge up this little nugget (*ahem*) from the family archives.
For she holds out the poop to me, and what do I do? I snatch it away from her with my bare hands. I don't really know what I was thinking, but if that isn't maternal devotion, what is?
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A blog about our fambly
1 comment:
Here's my runner-up in the parental devotion category:
After Mikael finished dipping his piece of mango in the sea and then rolling it around in the sand, I ate it in order to keep him from doing so. Yuck!
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