The Birthday Treat: Take Two

I have to apologize for the lack of consistent posting. I'm having a crazy busy week and I just can't find the time to blog! So I figured I'd treat everyone to some blasts from the past. I've picked some of my personal favorite blog posts from a year ago, and I'll repost one every day this week, or until I manage a way to get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

This one was originally posted on September 23, 2008.


I'd like to preface this post with a warning to all my nauseously pregnant readers.

Please proceed with caution.

Yesterday after K came home from school, he and D were riding their bikes in front of the house. As I was sitting on the front steps and making sure they didn't get kidnapped watching them, I noticed an unpleasant smell wafting towards me. It was way too unpleasant to be coming from T's diaper. It was that bad.

I looked into the grass on our nice front lawn and was greeted by the sight of a fresh load of cat poop. I say poop because I would like to keep this blog at around a PG-13 level, but the word poop really doesn't do justice to the load of *%*# that a *%!*& cat had left on my lawn, obviously very recently, since it appeared to be very fresh. Yes, there was a large pile of fresh, horribly smelly, cat poop on my lawn. Like, smell it from 20 feet away smelly.

Now this pooping on our lawn thing happens relatively often, and leads me, an otherwise nice, animal loving person, to have murderous thoughts about cats and microwaves and small creatures at the bottom of the river.

But alas, I was not going to murder a cat in broad daylight. I'm not an idiot. So I took T inside and started cooking dinner.

Anyway, I told the boys that they had to stay in front of the house because I couldn't watch them anymore, but they could play with chalk, etc... and I pointed out the load of cat poop so they would stay away.

I was in the midst of cooking, holding T in one arm, when the front door opened.

In walked K with a grin on his face, loudly singing 'Happy Birthday.' In his hand was a small garden shovel, and in the garden shovel was the whole load of cat poop, with a pink Dunkin Donuts straw stuck in it as a makeshift "birthday candle."

I swear to you, I am not making this up.

In the short amount of time he was in the house with it, which was just seconds, as the moment I realized what he was holding I shoved him out the front door and threw him down the front steps calmly told him to get that out of my house this second, the smell had already permeated my front hallway.

One bottle of Glade air freshener later, the cat poop was back on the front lawn, albeit, still stuck into the garden shovel with a straw in it, and my front hallway smelled relatively fresh, if not like "Blooming Flowers."

The contents of my lunch were still in my stomach, although they were precariously close to being expelled at any moment.

And K was outside, giggling and whispering to D. It was obviously a conspiracy against me.

I opened the door and ordered them inside. They stood in front of me like little soldiers, poker faces all the way.

I began my lecture, "WHAT YOU DID WAS DISGUSTING! I CAN'T BELIEVE - "

At this point, K could not keep his poker face any longer, and turned around to hide his face in the corner so I wouldn't be able to see the large grin pasted on his face.

This unleashed the laughter I had been holding back, which D saw, which caused him to laugh, which caused K to turn around and display his grin, which clearly said, "I think I am the funniest child alive! I still can't believe I came up with such a great idea! That was totally worth getting yelled at! And look, Mommy could only yell for about 2 seconds before she started laughing too! I am just a regular comedian!"

After I managed to control my laughter I did manage to get a few good minutes of yelling in. I didn't punish him because, well, I don't know.....he is a boy, right?

This was really not typical of him at all, he's not the type to bring dead animals into the house like I've heard of other little boys doing. In fact, he's more the type to not want to even play outside because it smells bad. I am still in shock that he actually did it.

I called hubby to tell him what happened. Hubby thought it was just about the funniest thing he'd heard all day. Easy for him to say. He didn't have to smell it.

I, for one, will probably have nightmares about cats for the next two weeks.

Dear G-d. What were you thinking when you created boys? And cats, for that matter.