Today at the park, M and Fisher wanted to take off their shoes and run around the tennis court.
Generally, I am a fan of shoes at the park because I am always afraid the girls will step on broken glass and I will be forced to pin down their writhing, screaming little bodies and dig it out of their feet. I am also afraid they will one day catch pinworms through their feet and I will have to go on a butt spelunking mission late at night with a flashlight and scotch tape. (A belief that seems to be based on misinformation after just now googling how pinworms spread.)
As the mother of two rough and tumble boys, it sounded like Fisher’s mom was inclined to let them go barefoot. Against my better judgement, I caved to peer pressure and agreed. Of course, because the bigger kids took of their shoes, so did L and Tate.
After a fair amount of bare-footed frolicking, I corralled L to make her put her shoes on. When I looked at the bottom of her foot, I noticed something brown smashed on it. A quick sniff and I was certain that L’s bare foot had stepped in dog poo.
Never fear, my friends, I did not panic. I cajoled M into fetching a cup of water and with the help of some dry leaves and a trusty stick, I did a decent job of scraping the offending feces off the foot in question. The foot showed no visible sign of poo, though it was still quite stinky.
I should mention at this point in the story that Mr. A (who was not with us) is rather dog-poop-phobic. Once, he accidentally rolled the stroller through a pile of dog poo which then splattered a tiny speck onto his pants. When he realized what happened, he actually insisted that he run home to immediately shower and disinfect himself. He also wanted to hose the entire stroller down with Lysol (a plan I rejected out of fear the lysol would damage the integrity of my rubber stroller tires). He really dislikes dog poop.
At dinner tonight, I mentioned to Mr. A that the girls needed a bath. I also think I also innocently mentioned that M should go first and no one should touch L’s bathwater, nor should she drink it.
Not surprisingly, Mr. A found that statement somewhat suspect, so he inquired about the reason for the precautions.
At this point in the story, M couldn’t help but throw in her own $.02. “L stepped in DOG POOP! IN HER BARE FEET!” she practically yelled.
In horror, Mr. A unintentionally leaned toward L. “WHAT?” he gasped.
At that very moment, hearing a mention of her feet, L grabbed her leg and thrust her bare foot toward Mr. A’s face, waved it around and then rested her foot on the dinner table.
As far as Mr. A was concerned, L might as well have rubbed a giant turd on his face and then laid it right there on the table.
He immediately scooped up L and toted her off to the bathtub, while simultaneously grilling me on how exactly I had cleaned her foot. Do I even need to mention that he was not impressed with the leaf, stick and cup of water as my cleaning materials?
In no time, Mr. A had L completely scrubbed and disinfected to his satisfaction. He also scrubbed her chair and the table and threw away her shoes. Then he cleaned the tub.
Mr. A does not like dog poop.
This made me laugh so much I cried!
Thanks, just what I needed.
Now that is hilarious!
LOL
Oh my sides hurt from reading that! I think my darling two boys would cause Mr. A cardiac arrest with their antics.
Thanks for sharing!
“butt spelunking” – not only will I have this phrase in my head for a few days but I can’t wait to find an opportunity to use it…too funny.
I take it you guys don’t have a dog!?LOL
I am such a bad influence! But see, we have a dog. Not too long ago I looked out back to see Tate holding an old, dried up dog turd IN HIS HAND. Nothing fazes me anymore. I am immune.
Don’t tell A any of this. He’ll never let your girls come to my house.
I’m so glad I’m not the only that teared up from laughing. My husband would have done the same thing, but throw in some loud gagging, too.
Laughing so hard, but with future foreboding. Yes, J would do the same thing-except he’s too frugal to throw the shoes away, so he might boil them. He got stuck taking the dog to the groomer last night because I er, went clubbing with a friend, and he agreed to something without hearing the question. You should have seen the tarp he wrapped the dog in before letting her in the car. ~lmc
OMG, what IS it with guys and dog poop? I clean up 99% of our dog’s poop because my husband won’t touch it with a ten foot pole. I’ve given in because I’d rather have a clean yard than argue with him about it every other day. (He does do his fair share of diaper changes, though–he knows better than to try to get out of those!)
Correction: I clean up the poop 99% of the TIME, not that I leave 1% of the poop lying around! Hee hee!
I’m a longtime reader and total lurker on your blog, but i have to come out of lurkdom to say: this post was hilarious!
rofl.
LOL! Mr. A would not last in my house. We live with the eat dirt theory. If you eat dirt and don’t die, Eh, you’ll be fine!
ha! guess you guys aren’t getting a dog anytime soon….
I too am a lurker but had to de-lurk to say this was hilarious!
Especially enjoyed the rubbing of the giant turd on the face comment. Too funny!
This post is by far the funniest thing I’ve read in month’s. Mr. A is just so funny and the way you explained it all, had me just laughing myself crazy over here! Ha ha ha. : ) You truly are awesome! Have a good weekend over there! : )
My husband’s like that too…I always cleaned out the litter box and took care of cat puke. Guess it’s not just him.
ROFLMAO!!! Catching up on your blog, slowly. DoctorDude is totally poop-phobic, too. Which makes life interesting since we have a ginormous dog. Who makes a lot of poo. Who has had, on occasion, some bouts of “diaries”…
If and when we ever have a kid, DoctorDude will not have a problem with the diapers because he’s seen it all before. From a big, smelly, slobbery dog.