The other day, my niece announced to her mother (my sister) that the 'bubby' had done a pooh. The shrieks of Miss 3yo "Pooh! Pooh! Mummy!" echoed through the house. My sister responded calmly saying, "No, Princess, it's okay, there's no pooh."
15 minutes later Sis lifted baby 8 out of her high chair to discover that there was in fact pooh in places pooh should not ever be - legs, feet, the bottom of the seat, the floor. EEEEWWWW!!!
There is a different kind of Poop Report at my house.
We all know about Shelly. We know she is an inside cat - with a litter box. On occasion Shelly uses her litter box and doesn't bury her deposit. A short time after, my mother will walk into the laundry (where Shelly's litter box resides) and notice the visibility of the poop. Before long, there will be a knock at my door. "Just so that you know, the poop is on top of the litter box" OR "The litter box needs attention." OR "There is an odour in the laundry."
I have decided that instead of letting this annoy me - because it could very well annoy me - I am going to call it the Poop Report.
Perhaps I should consider myself lucky. There are worse things than a bit off poop on top of the litter box... like liquid baby poop that has escaped the confines of its owner's nappy!!
Icky!
