Pooper Bowl Kickoff!

Today's the day to kick-off my new blog.

Strange first post, sure. But I figure beer and football go together like poop and moms. And this blog is going to have a little of everything.

Today, I watched a friend's two kids. Boy and girl. Boy has a tendency to potty in his pants when he's not at home. So, when I saw him making a funny little dance move, I immediately launched into my if-you-need-to use-the-potty, we-have-one-in-the-room-right-beside-this-playroom-and-boy-is-it-great routine. Luckily, I busted him at the get-go and threw him off. He admitted to needing to go and I ran him in like any diligent Mom on potty patrol. He got up there on the throne and peed...and pooped.

Thank the good heavens above--he made it in the toilet or I would have stopped the house and gotten out.

There's just something about another kid's poop that doesn't work well for me. I am used to my own little man's stink...and I don't mean to say I enjoy it but it's his, I know it and I can tolerate it without the gag Olympics ensuing. So, not only did I get to stand sentry while the little dude "crapped it up" but (as any mom of a young one knows) I also got to wipe his tiny, poop-encrusted ass. Oh, joy!

Just doesn't get much better than that. Unless you add early pregnancy with a heightened sense of smell and alarmingly sensitive gag reflex into the mix. So, toss it on in there and watch the fireworks ignite!

Tune in tomorrow for "While Daddy's Away, Mommy Will Pray" and other struggling when solo stories