Today My daughter decided to play a new game with me. It was kind of like hide and seek, but much much more depressing. A game I can’t win, a game I have already lost. Like the pop-up book she so loves so much, today we played Where’s The Poop.
I was in the kitchen making a snack for the kids when my youngest walks in carrying her diaper. She had removed it and her pants, something that is unfortunately all too common right now.
She handed me the diaper and at first I didn’t think anything of it. Then to my horror I looked inside to see the tell-tale signs of a poop but no poop. I looked to her hoping that she would lead me to my stinky treasure but no dice she just laughed and handed me a new diaper. (How Considerate).
I looked around checking every place I thought she might have left the poop. it wasn’t in the kitchen, bathroom or dining room. I didn’t see it in her bedroom or the hall. It must be somewhere among her toys in the living room.
To be honest, I did at this point consider that maybe she only created the streaks. Unlikely but it could happen. She is a very talented pooper. Unfortunately, I was not as talented at finding the poop. I looked everywhere.
Finally, I found it. nestled in the corner next to the Legos was a twinkly sized log of unpleasantness. Luckily this was a dryer offering and that section of carpet would not need to be cut out and replaced. I cleaned it up and was ready to put this game behind me, ready to join the other pointless horrible games we have played in my past, like how fast can hurt myself?, or how long can I cry? , or soccer.
I was proud I cleaned it up and ready to tell my wife. At least that is until she found a long brown streak on our beige couch. “What is this?” She asked. I looked at her and smiled, “Let me tell you about a game we played today.”