That Shirt Is The Poop!

So Archer has been pooping a lot lately. (God, Listen to me. What has it come to?) Already he pooped 17 times today. I am not lying or embellishing either. I miss the days of bi-weekly pooping at the beginning, when Archer was a small blob of a human, or as his Uncle Russell called him, a "tweedle-heench". Diapers were a quarter slice of heaven back in those days but I will stop now before I get too nostalgic about poop. Back to the present day. Today. By the time 12:30 in the nooner was upon us, I had already dealt with a plethora of poop (not to mention the dogs, who seem to shit for a hobby these days.)

I had some errands to run so I strapped Archer in his stroller, grabbed a sweatshirt and we were out the door. After a brief bookstore browse, post-office stop, and Starbucks soy latte run we decided to slip into Flicka on our way home. Flicka is a fancy shmancy baby-boutique and favorite of local celeb GGC's and our favorite place to purchase overpriced-yuppy-baby-hats. I am crazy about the baby hats if you have not noticed.

I had not known, however, that today was "I'm not a witch, but I play one on TV" day and realized rather quickly that the store was full of celebrity on-screen witches. Witches shopping for baby clothes, me and Archer.

When I see celebs around town I am pretty good with the ol' " I'm not looking" look. It's basically a peripheral stare and only works when wearing sunglasses (which is why all L.A. people wear sunglasses inside, outside, etc. I mean, you never know, right?)

We did a few laps in the store, strutting like were the shit, rock in roll, totally. We spied through the wall of the sale-rack, curious as to what they were buying. Rose who is quite thin was trying on a 2T tutu with little difficulty. Totally witch-chic, really. The older witches were for SURE buying gifts for Clarissa Explains it All/Sabrina's new babe and that was all I got.

Archer usually gets attention everywhere we go so I was surprised at how unfriendly everyone was to us. Witches aside, the mail-guy was totally quiet. And THEN... The answer: Poop, there it is!

That's right. The white t-shirt hanging out from beneath my green sweatshirt was covered in hard/crusty poop. My first GGC (CBH) post was about being caked in spit-up, being totally clueless and then trying to maintain my cool, once I realized (was told) that my baby "soiled" my threads. Today it took me coming home and looking in the mirror to see what kind of condition I was in.

Even worse, (two hours later) and I haven't changed my clothes yet.

I guess there comes a point when shit stops being embarrassing. When dealing with poop is a more common occurrence than eating, drinking, breathing, it's kind of like, "whatever." Plus, it humbles a sister. I may not be the shit anymore but I am sooooo totally poop. Dig that, witches.


GGC

And In other more impressive news, my neighbor, friend and brand new Mom, KiwiDebra has started a blog. Read her here. She's funny, clever and her baby is friggin precious.

5 comments:

Binky | 7:32 PM

Great minds think alike...or great children poop alike. I just got finished writing a post on the same topic. My daughter gives me a lot of material to work with. Anyway, you are so right: we may not be the shit, but we really are the poop. You are always saying things I wish I came up with myself.

Kristen | 7:49 PM

I'm a certified pooperologist... I am crazy poop examiner. This just started with motherhood, mind you. In case you were wondering.

And, I'm so jealous - my hubby digs HMCombs (not sure what that means about me, exactly, as I'm more of a Rose girl meself)...

Wood | 8:37 PM

I wish that Juniper pooped regularly (we're lucky to get one every 3-4 days) and I wish that we had celebrities in san francisco.

especially the witch ones. I used to watch that sabrina show even though dutch made fun of me.

stefanierj | 12:12 PM

Why was my man not getting any love at the schmancy baby sto'?? Poop is not an excuse, people--I would kiss Archer even if he was covered in poo.

That said, remember that fruits that start with P (pears, peaches, plums, pineapple) are what my mother, the pediatric nutritionist, lovingly refers to as "poop fruits." We've noticed that apples and bananas help firm thangs up a bit. But it's not like I have a discussing-all-poop-related-topics PROBLEM or anything. I can stop anytime!

the weirdgirl | 7:18 PM

You poor thing. See, this is why I've learned to check myself in the mirror before going out. Some may call it vanity but... OK, it's vanity.

And all the witches were in the store at once, huh? Weird. (But I bet Rose looked cool.)