Spread Em

I can see about four square feet of my living room floor (that's almost 50%), and I hate cleaning, so here I sit. I finally got around to adding the Feedburner chicklet , so if you want to subscribe, have at it. Now, to the butt cheeks story.


My kids are so weird (the older two). They don't wipe when they poop. I mean, they're supposed to. Or actually, I'm supposed to. But they just go and then get up, and it's so gross. We have tried every method to get them to wipe, or at least flush. First, we decided to go the way of natural consequences (ie: sore hineys). The problem is, they are clean poopers. So after several weeks of not pushing them (and frequent baths), we gave up on that.

Dave takes the brunt of the situation. Although I hold my kids and snuggle all day, their butts are rarely near my nose. Dave, however, is constantly wrestling and tickling the kids. Come evening time and a few bowel movements each, they're pretty ripe.

It reminds me of a cat we used to have. Actually, we still have him but he no longer has us. That's another story. Anyway, our sweet little kitten, Debussy, came home a she. The pet store owner told Dave she was a she. For several weeks, all was fine with her. Than she started stinking. Every time she would march past us with that tail up in the air, I was reaching for the air spray. I tried to teach her to wipe after she pooped, but apparently that is an unteachable skill. When she started spraying, we realized she was a he and took him to the vet where he promptly became an it. I had expected him to stop spraying, post-snippage, but he also stopped stinking of cat doodoo. Obviously, the vet had taught him to wipe.

I would really like to have grandchildren one day, so we are taking a different approach with the kids. Today, Dave found a floater. He called in the two culprits.

Daddy- "Who pooped last?"
Kids in unison- "Not I!"
Daddy- "There is poop in the toilet and no toilet paper. Somebody pooped, didn't wipe and didn't flush. "
-numerous back-and-forths regarding which children could have done so and which child (blamed by the other two) could not have.-
Daddy- "Pull down your undies and bend over."
Kids comply
Daddy- "Spread your cheeks." (he was in the Marine Corps, what can I say?)
A- promptly grabs his mouth and pulls it apart.

We just rolled. It was comforting to know that the term "butt cheeks" is not used frequently in our house. He had no clue until I told him Daddy didn't mean his regular cheeks.

So, now we're back to square one. I think the best thing for them may be a good bout of diarrhea. A few sore hineys will teach them a lesson. I'm thinking a nice laxitive-laced dinner tomorrow may do the trick. Either that, or a trip to the vet.