This is my 300th post (not that that means anything but I thought I'd share.)
ANYWAY...Poop. Shit. Fecal Matter. Or as some people call it, "mess." Have I explained to you that it is my pet peeve when people call poop, mess? Like "Dog Mess?" ACK! It's always muttered out of the same breed of twisted mouth. Hate. Anyway... Crap. Dung. Poo-Poo. Stinky Stink. Etc. But for the sake of a good title, let's just call it, "shit."
Archer poops once a day. It's a very large "shit." and it happens around the same time, mid-morning usually, before naptime. It demands my full attention. A dozen wipes? Check. Diaper on deck, ready to wear? Check. White robe? Check. Goggles? Check. I'll spare you the details for now. I know, I know, you're welcome.
But here's where it gets REALLY exciting: As of late, Archer has become, Crouching Baby, Hidden Dragon up in this bitch, sneaking off to do his duty away from my watchful eyes, and it's my favorite thing in the world.
Yeah, you heard me, Archer's new crouch-poop under the table gives me more pleasure than a pint of Haagen Dazs ice-cream.
He does this thing with his face, makes this little puzzled look, checks to see if I'm looking (I pretend like I'm not) and then he grunts and does poopy smile, looks to see if I'm looking (still pretending like I'm not) and then finishes with a second grunt, and crawls off toward his bedroom for me to change him.
Next stop toilet training, right? Psh, I know but I can't be bothered thinking about that yet. For now, I'm enjoying his wonder-poop.
Ah, yes... The sweet comfort of my one shit wonder.