>Tonight I took my children over to see their grandmother, the Grand High Queen Drama Mama. She has a new puppy that is being house trained with “puppy chips”. The puppy potty training discussion became a Scooby potty training discussion in which she discovered her beloved grandson does not, will not poop on the toilet. That he has no issue pooping in his pants, at all.
She would be horrified to find out about his artistic endeavors with the brown. Never mind the Grilled Cheesus. We have the Great Poopus, and I still can’t get him off the wall…
I could tell that she would be of no help in this matter. This really truly is something my son inherited from GC. Yes, I am pointing the finger. I am simply too perfect for him to have inherited that poopy gene from me.
And no. That is NOT why my grandma called me Poopsie when I was a little girl.
Too bad I didn’t think to ask his parents if he was a poop artist before I married him.
Now it’s too late. It’s for issues like these that crappy inlaws come in handy. Pun intended.
And today? Right this moment? I feel cheated.
I’m calling Madame Moonglow and raising me some spirits.
Who’s joining in?
Come find out what happens to Blair Weathers via Facebook using Mama Kat’s prompt today at My Write Side.