Recently I went to brunch with some girlfriends and Maggie. Everything was great. I was hearing about their drunken debacles from the night before and then decided to tell a story about something funny that happened to me. A story about poop.
I’m not going to get into details of my poop story, needless to say everyone laughed, albeit politely. Then my bff Leslie brings to my attention that I’m talking about poop. Yep, it has happened. I never thought it would, but I now openly discuss baby poop, dog poop and the fact that I barely have the time for myself. Well, the scoop on poop ends here.
At least for now, unless you ask. All you need to know is…most days Maggie poops and I have to clean her gdiaper. Most days our dog Gilmore poops and I have to pick it up with a baggie. It is surprising that I’m not covered in poop by the end of the day. Now if only I could train both of them to use the bathroom, I’d be in heaven.
Of course I think Maggie will learn to use the toilet before Gilmore, but I’d love it if he tried.