Jadon (at the top of his lungs, while the neighbors are outside tending their meticulous lawns): “Mama, is da puppy gonna POOP here?!”
Me (pretending to be appalled, but really wishing the damn dog would poop already): “Oh, noooo, we’re just letting the puppy exercise.”
Jadon: “But he REALLY needs to POOP!”
Me (mumbling): “Yeah, yeah kid, but I’d rather not get kicked out of the neighborhood association.”
Me (saying loudly): “I’m sure puppy will poop when we get back to our yard.”
And a little later in the walk, as we pass some neighbors we know…
Jadon: “Hey, mama, can I carry the bag of poop?”
Me (trying to sound slightly indulgent, yet not disgusting): “Um, sure. You want to be my big helper?”
Jadon: I want to throw it in the POOP can!
(Background information: The poop can is exactly what it sounds like. It is a can that is strategically placed along the walking path in our neighborhood in the hopes of bringing out the polite side of our dog-walking neighbors. Every time the boys get near it, we have to yell at them to stay away from it. Yuck! Poop! It’s full of poop! So they have never been able to go near it. Until now. Now they have an excuse.
Me (rolling my eyes): Ok, you can throw it in the can, but lift the lid and throw it in—and then leave it alone, ok?
Jadon (with a solemn look on his little face): Ok, mama.
So I hand him the bag, telling him to hold onto the top. And do you know what he did? Do you even know? I can tell you this—you don’t want to know, but I’m going to tell you anyway. He grabbed the bag, full-fisted on the bottom, and SQUEEZED it like he had a handful of Play-Doh. Um, I reckon just to see what it felt like to squeeze warm poop. I dunno.
After I finished gagging, I scolded him properly and told him that just this once he didn’t need to hold my hand while crossing the street to get back to our house.