Tonight, Ella came to me quite concerned, holding something in her hand. She said, “I found poop. A piece of poop.” Given that we have a potty training child and a one year old, this wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Upon seeing her findings, I was quite relieved to see it was a piece of sausage from our pizza dinner. I then struggled with the idea of telling Ella it was just a sausage, with visions of her tasting a future poop she may come across. Or, vice versa, her refusing to eat sausage because she thinks it’s poop. What to do?
I’ve been calling Ella McCrackin lately. Mostly though, her very busy life and lack at following through completely when pulling up her pants, she often sports a plumber’s crack. In fact, while showing our house to our future renters yesterday, McCrackin led us up the stairs, crack first. It was quite the view. When we reached the top of the steps, she hitched up her pants and exclaimed, “I’ve got jeans!”
Lillian spills Cheerios all over the floor.
Ella swoops in to help with clean up, and an easy snack.
McCrackin strikes again!
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